


The Apple Tree

by BigMammaLlama5



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, but not really, its religious im sorry, jesus mary and joseph took the wheel on this one, nun au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:14:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 47,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23369026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigMammaLlama5/pseuds/BigMammaLlama5
Summary: Carmilla has spiraled to a point where outside intervention is needed. A too fast life of too many vices has led her to two options. A clash with the law? Or a stint at an Abbey.
Relationships: Laura Hollis/Carmilla Karnstein
Comments: 27
Kudos: 73





	1. The Apple Tree: Part One - June 1991

**Author's Note:**

> Just a few notes before we begin. Please read.
> 
> I wrote this story at the end of 2016 mainly through November’s NaNoWriMo, so please excuse the quality. It definitely isn’t up to my current standards but I didn’t have the time, energy, or interest to completely rewrite it. At the end of 2016 some unfortunate life things happened (not just the election), my mental health took a plunge, and as I started recovering I had to break away from the Carmilla fandom. With that separation, my willingness to give this story the attention it deserved fizzled. But the first draft was complete, and I felt guilty hanging onto it. It felt like a loose thread I couldn’t shake. So I pocketed it, looking for the right time. It took a couple years but I’m doing much better now, or as well as I can with the current state of the world, and I finally felt ready to return to finish this to truly send Carmilla and Laura off with hopefully a worthy farewell.
> 
> Hollstein will always have a soft space in my heart to reside, but it’s with this story I finally move on. I’ll wax poetic about them another time and the good that they did for me.
> 
> This is an AU, and I’m definitely not Catholic, so just take this all as a fun experiment and excuse to write about two “nuns” falling in love and leaving the Church (inspired by the real nuns who did fall in love and leave the church to be together). I made sure to keep hard hitting lines of homophobia out of this story, choosing to focus on more character driven obstacles. Still, because of the premise of the AU, it is heavily steeped in a character navigating through a religious atmosphere. So if that is something that may make you feel uncomfortable, this probably isn’t a story you would enjoy.
> 
> Please respect this ramshackle mess from a turbulent time and spare me your critiques on religion or the characters. I won’t be spending any more time on it.
> 
> So here it is in its poorly constructed entirety, set in the early ‘90’s just for fun, probably some typos in there somewhere, exposing the truth that I’ve always loved old lady characters, I hope you enjoy it. Thank you for reading.

The ancient grandfather clock ticked quietly from down the hall.

The monotonous passage of time echoed faintly in the lavishly decorated study where a small group of four solemn people sat, the clock accompanied by the soft scratch of an expensive fountain pen. Thunder rumbled angrily overhead as rain lashed against the thick glass of the windows tall windows. A stern man in a crisp black suit leaned carefully over a stack of legal documents. His large round glasses glinted in the yellow light and cast the lined bracketing his mouth into relief. As he worked her frowned in thought, deepening the crease in his forehead as he spoke through the contract.

A stately middle-aged couple sat stiffly across from him and stared blankly as the attorney filled out page after page. The husband patted his wife’s hand absentmindedly, his dark eyes unseeing. Out of the way and trying to sink into the shadows of the heavy curtain, a small slight woman in leather and black curled her arms protectively across her chest. Wild black hair curled loosely around her shoulders and softening the sharp cut of her jaw, free of its usual copious amounts of hairspray and gel. Her dark eyes watched the clouds and darted to each lightening strike. A fleeting thought of running up to the roof to catch one crossed her mind but she shook it away and tried to block out the _scritch scritch scritch_ of the pen. Every mark on the paper cut a little bit deeper and fed the sickening ache in her stomach.

She had _really_ fucked up this time.

Lady Carmilla Karnstein.

Twenty-four years old, stunningly beautiful and reckless in nature despite her parent’s attempts to curb her inability to get along with authority. She had always been “the problem child” in the family. She had never been one to play well with the other little girls, opting instead to roughhouse with the boys and ruin her clothing-much to her mother’s dismay. A childhood of bug bites, scrapes, bruises, and scabby knees hidden by uncomfortable dresses led to preteen years of the same with an increasing amount of attitude and a penchant for too much black eye makeup. It wasn’t without cause though. The constant pressuring to stay on top of all of her schooling plus her extracurricular and social activities she didn’t want to be anywhere near led to a growing feeling that her life did not belong to her.

So she lashed out. _Hard_.

_Yes_ , she focused on her grades-how else could she escape to the further education she wanted? Money buys a lot of things but the difference between a purchased education and an earned one is very easy to see. Carmilla may not like it when people tell her what to do, but this was something she _did_ have control over. So between carefully completing her homework and papers came a greater increase of “sticking it to the man”. That involved blowing off social gatherings or ditching family obligations. Carmilla happily fell out of the race for social popularity because _really_. Who needs popularity when it’s easier to smoke and forget about your stress for a few minutes? Who needs popularity when you could find some dingy underground bar full of pulsing metal or techno and writhing bodies? Who needs popularity when you could get your bass and shred for hours with a group of close friends in an underground warehouse until your ears rang?

Certainly _not_ Carmilla.

She would take the angry heavy guitar riffs over the dainty high-class harmony of baroque music and pastel dresses _any_ day.

The older Carmilla grew, the more boxed-in she felt. And the angrier she became.

The pressure was still there to keep her grades up, to try to resist the heavy hand of her parents, of what was expected of her. But her anger also manifested in trying to protect her younger twin brothers from falling to the same pressures. She wished she could take Jean Paul and William away from the social obligations so they could grow up like normal boys. She wanted them to be able to watch cartoons and read super hero comics after school, not be whisked off to fencing or shooting lessons. She wanted them to play on their sports teams and not be held up on a pedestal because of their social status. She wanted to be able to take them to the movies to see Terminator and eat too much american-style popcorn until they were sick. But the last thing she wanted was for them to be angry like her. No one had been there to tell her the right and wrong so it was up to her to do that for her brothers.

It had been Carmilla who had coaxed JP to come out of his room and eat when they had lost their cat to a feral dog. It had been Carmilla who taught Will how to properly form a fist for when he most needed it against bullies. It had been Carmilla who had been their surrogate guardian when their parents had consistently been too busy or aloof to help them with a math problem or a bad dream. It was her that warned them to not let their parents choose their suitors, and to find who they wanted to love on their own terms. And it was a heavy anvil on her chest whenever she was forced to clean up and parade herself in front of yet another pale, sweaty, snooty boy full of empty pomp and a “it would be an honor, Lady Karnstein, if I could accompany you to the garden.”

To which she would promptly kick them in the groin when they leaned in with dry lips and sweaty palms to try to kiss her.

A year before she went off to university the parade of doughy teen boys tapered off, but the underhanded cutting comments from her parents did not. Comments of “I can’t wait for you to find a nice boy” or “maybe a structured relationship will straighten out your ideals” followed her into the University of Vienna. Thankfully it was the perfect environment to gain a sense of autonomy as she worked her way through increasingly difficult courses. Her first big act of defiance was entering and being accepted into the Philosophy program and Women Studies program rather than following the wishes of her parents for a Business or Hospitality Management degree. Carmilla’s early dream to teach had been quickly squashed by a far from helpful tutor, but she still enjoyed entertaining the thought that one day she might escape to a little town and teach at a local University. Somewhere where no one would know her as _Lady Karnstein_ . Somewhere where she would simply be Carmilla and it would be her own life under _her_ control. It was a lovely pipe dream.

Her second act of defiance was bringing her first steady girlfriend by for a brief visit to collect some items for her apartment. That particular event ended in her girlfriend waiting in the car while Carmilla tearfully screamed herself hoarse in the back of the house, defending her feelings and that it wasn’t just a phase, she really did like girls and she wasn’t some confused child. And she had foolishly hoped that it would be the last she would have to defend herself.

End of story.

Unfortunately… it wasn’t.

The interactions only became more vile as her relationship deteriorated with her parents. Carmilla avoided going home if at all possible, only visiting Will and JP after their school days or going to watch them compete but staying on the opposite side of the court or field from her parents-if on the off change they happened to attend. Most of the time they didn’t and Will told her quietly one evening that he and JP wished they could come with her. Carmilla just hugged him tightly and kissed him on the top of the head before ushering him into the town car. She wished she was in a position to take them with her but it just wouldn’t be wise. There was no way she could take care of them out from under the nose of their parents. The law would side with them.

Carmilla kept her grades up but she began to frequent the bars for grungier bands and equally grungy company. The smell of beer, cigarettes, and sex lingered on her for days at a time and her care for doing anything at all that her status called for dropped through the floor. Paparazzi began following her more and so her attempts to avoid them became more brazen if not downright rude. She hopped fences and snuck out back windows and down fire escapes, sometimes more safely than others, the worst resulting in a bad ankle sprain from a rough landing. At one point she had shouted obscenities and thrown a few punches with one pap that just wouldn’t let her be and it took going behind her parent’s back (despite her mother’s blasé “just ignore him”) to get a restraining order against the man. She hadn’t been able to play her bass for weeks aftre her knuckles had connected with his nose.

Carmilla hated it.

She hated the flash of the cameras and how even with the darkest sunglasses they still left spots in her vision. She hated how no matter what she did her private life was never private. She hated that the tabloids took her parents side and she hated that she was trying to be forced into a mold she mentally could not occupy. During her third year at University she stopped hiding and started telling the Paparazzi outlandish things because the tabloids wouldn’t know what to write. She didn’t hide the loose relationships with women or the public intoxication, nor did she act like the Lady she was supposed to be. Plus it was a sure fire way to piss her parents off. Her favorite lie to tell was she was now a part of an all women satanist group and it was critical that they get at least a nipple or their genitals pierced to be fully initiated. Not that she had any ill will towards real satanists, she had simply let the press put words in her mouth. And… She actually _did_ have some questionable piercings, but none that would get in the way. Of course, the more _troubled_ she sounded the better off it was. So in a sense it was a win-win for her. It became a game to see how much truth she could sneak into a comment to the tabloids before she got a phone call from their family attorney, whom she gave too much grief. Of course she would be an insufferable ass and throw a philosophical argument back if her parents were also on the line, but she quite liked the man and tried not to make his life too difficult.

The one thing she adamantly stayed away from now was any kind of drug other than marijuana. One nasty late night ended in tragedy where one man she considered a close friend had a little too much fun. She often remembered his shaking body and the putrid stench of acidic vomit mixed with stale beer and half-digested fast food. On bad nights Carmilla would wake up still thinking she was back in that dank club kneeling on the floor next to him as his heart stopped. She tries to visit him in the care center a time or two a month, but he wasn’t really there anymore. He just stares into the ether. Too long without oxygen, the doctor had said. It had a profound impact on her and still supports the one solid answer she proudly gives to Paparazzi whenever she’s faced with such a question: No. Never. She would never tell them she was afraid.

Carmilla sighed rested her forehead on the cool glass, letting her eyes slip out of focus again. Her reflection blurred and she curled her arms tighter around herself, her fingers digging into the soft knitting of her oversized sweater. Carmilla bit back a hiss of discomfort as the shift pulled at the dull ache in her ribs. She had tried not thinking about the hazy chilly night in early June and how the low roar of her old motorbike rattled through her body. She tried not to think about how the crowd she had fallen into the past two years took spray paint and crowbars to public property, or how her numbed nose from beer itched to be buried in between the legs of her latest fling. She tried not to think about exhilarating the junky adrenaline rush felt as they ran from police lights, her hand still aching from where her knuckles had cracked against one officer’s cheekbone. And then to the overwhelming panic of losing control and skidding off the sidewalk and into the cold dark river. She couldn’t help but remember the crushing impact of hitting the steely water at eighty kilometers or the spike of hot fear when her bike crashed in above her, heavily bruising her back and left side. She would never forget clawing her way through the rough icy current in the direction she thought was up, nor the foggy feeling in her head that wasn’t the alcohol as her lungs screamed for air. Carmilla would never forget how close to death she had gotten that night.

All she wanted now was to work at her simple little coffee shop job, and to find a nice quiet corner to curl up with a dusty old book about Hazel Barnes’s ideologies on being and nothingness.

And a cigarette.

Ever since the acts of vandalism and the subsequent crash, Carmilla had been plucked from her little apartment in Vienna and cooped up on the family estate with her parents and brothers-who were now seventeen and about to start out on their own at University. It was a jarring lifestyle change for the Lady, and not a very welcome one. With her motorcycle at the bottom of the Danube and legal charges pending from the State, Carmilla was trapped. She was under strict orders from her mother and the doctor to stay way from drinking and from her from cigarettes and _boy_ was nicotine withdrawal a bitch. Splitting headaches and anxiety hampered her even through the smallest tasks of the first week, craving to even smell the unburnt tobacco. Luckily she only threw up the first couple days. A few weeks later she still ached for a drag on the harder days when sleep didn’t come the night before, or when her mother’s demeaning underhanded comments cut a little too deeply.

_Clean up your act, Carmilla_ . Her mother had said. _There will be no smoking in my home._

That, of course, had been a nasty fight aided by her father leaving to smoke his pipe.

Speaking of.

“-what was expected of you.”

Carmilla blinked owlishly and twisted her head back to look at her mother, spine ramrod straight but her flinty eyes were downcast and boring a hole into the floor. Her dark graying hair was swept back and up into a stately bun and not a button or crease in her pale green power suit was out of place. Jewelry glittered in a particularly bright flash of lightening, and Carmilla had the quick violent urge to rip the rather expensive looking broach from her mother’s lapel and throw it across her father’s study as hard as she could.

“What?” She asked flatly, her voice rasping from lack of use.

Her mother huffed sharply through her nose. Her piercing gaze snapped up from the floor and burned into Carmilla. She could only see cold ire in her face.

“ _I said_ that you should be grateful that Fredrich is willing to do this for you, considering you’ve only been making one poor decision after the other since you went off to Vienna. We wouldn’t be in this situation had you not shirked your responsibilities and expectations.”

White-hot fury bubbled in Carmilla’s chest and she felt three feet tall in the face of the condescending Countess. She could sense when her mother was trying to pick a fight, and little red flags were popping up in her head at her tone.

She _really_ wanted a cigarette.

Her father shook his head and heaved himself to his feet and began pacing. His once muscular frame tense with nervous energy and his large hands were clenched in the pockets of his grey slacks. Political discussions he could navigate and conquer with ease, but interacting with his daughter as an individual who doesn’t share his world views? He might as well be riding through the Bermuda Triangle in a deflating inner tube. His pacing put Carmilla’s teeth on edge and she stubbornly turned her back to the room again, her shoulders hunching up to her ears. Blocking her parents from view only helped cool the flicker of anger a little but she didn’t know how much more she could take. Her eyes dropped to her worn boots and glued themselves to the scuffed steel toes.

The Head Attorney for the Karnstein family, Fredrich, shifted at the desk and cleared his throat gently. The soft sound broke the mounting tension in the room and Carmilla had never been so glad for the man to be there.

“I would like to speak with Lady Karnstein, please. Alone.”

Carmilla felt her heart jump into her throat and clutched so tightly at the material of her sweater her knuckles turned white. She didn’t dare look behind her as her parents left the room. She could feel their stares heavy on her back and she knew she would snap at them if she looked. Carmilla didn’t move until the polished oak door closed with a soft click and the thump of her father’s heavy step and sharp staccato clacking of her mother’s heels retreated down the hall. She swallowed thickly against the urge to throw up and slowly pushed away from window, her eyes low as she trudged to the chair her father had occupied. Fredrich watched her quietly as she sank gingerly into the low leather chair. He breathed a slow sigh through his nose and spun his pen in his long fingers.

“You’ve really stepped in it this time, Carmilla.” He said softly, the corner of his mouth pulling into a half grimace pretending to be a smile, his bushy mustache twitching.

Carmilla snorted and rested her head on her fist, her elbow sliding on the arm of the deep red leather chair. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Fredrich huffed a small laugh and pushed the stack of documents to the side. He capped the fountain pen and leaned forward on his elbows. Carmilla locked her eyes onto his laced hands, afraid that if she looked him in the eye the flood gates would open.

“I’ve been speaking with the Attorney of the Church you helped vandalize and they’re offering you two options here. And please understand that the Church is too kind and shielding you from the State of Vienna. I have no idea why, but I would gather it is because of your parent’s money. Both institutions benefit from the Karnstein Estate’s generosity and I am under the impression that charging a family member too harshly would reduce that generosity.”

He paused for a moment for the news to sink in. When Carmilla didn’t say anything he continued on in a firm tone.

“The level of vandalism you helped inflict is paired with the DUI, accident _and_ assault of an officer, even if it was seemingly out of self defense. The whole ordeal is punishable by at least two years in a correctional facility if not up to five. You have some pull because you are the daughter of a Countess, but that does not mean you are above the law. You are in a very privileged position.”

Carmilla nodded weakly.

“Now here is where you decide what to do. Either you can go to court in Vienna, plead guilty to the charges, hope for a light sentence and serve the time seen fit… Or, you can spend two years probation giving back to the community in Sankt Johann bei Herberstein.”

Carmilla had to look up at him, her nerves curdling in her chest. “What’s in Herberstein…?”

Fredrich’s jaw clenched for a moment.

“Bertholdstein Abbey.”

Carmilla stared at him for a long hard moment, her mouth slowly falling open in disbelief.

“An Abbey.”

“Yes.”

“With _nuns_.”

“With nuns. Or, more accurately, Sisters.”

The only sounds in the room for a long tense moment was their breathing and the storm outside. Carmilla finally sat up.

“So. I either go to court and risk jail jeopardizing my entire future, or I go to a fucking Abbey for two goddamn years. And for what? Praise Jesus for saving me from the watery grave only to delivery me to a life of bread and cheese? _Why would I even go there?!_ ”

As Carmilla spoke her voice rose until her final question exploded in an angry shout. Fredrich sighed and rose slowly from his seat. He rounded the desk and settled his tall slender frame into the seat next to hers.

“Carmilla, I’m going to tell you a story.”

Carmilla rolled her eyes and slumped back into her seat. “Please _spare_ me, I don’t want to hear another rendition of glory from your army days.”

Fredrich barked a laugh and shook his head. “No, this is a story from before that time. Please listen.”

Carmilla narrowed her eyes at him and propped a booted foot up on the front of the heavy oak desk. The Attorney quirked his brow in mild annoyance and turned to face her.

“When I was a young, _stupid_ boy of about sixteen, I threw a rock through the window of my local Church. I wish I could say it was an accident, but it wasn’t.” The admission made them share a knowing smile.

“Anyways… So out comes Father Lud, the rock in his hand and anger in his face. He finds me on the side walk and says, _Fredrich, vandalizing the Lord’s House is a sin!”_ He emphasized with a dramatic wag of his finger, and then pressed his lips together in a chagrined expression.

“Being the fool I was, I told him _exactly_ where he could take that sin and put it.”

“You _didn’t_.” Carmilla cracked a grin.

“Oh, I did.” He grimaced.

“Okay. You have my attention. What happened?”

“One of the Officers of the town had been coming out of the shop across the street right when I had thrown the rock. I didn’t know he was there until I felt his hand come down on my shoulder. I had never been caught before so of course I nearly pissed myself, because what’s a young stupid boy to do when he finally is faced with the consequences of his actions?”

He paused and folded his hands.

“The Officer asked Father Lud if he would care to press charges since I was legally an adult and could be tried under the law for a vandalism misdemeanor. And Father Lud was so shocked! He cried out loudly, “ _NO! Spare the boy!”,_ and I would have kissed his shoes then and there in thanks had the Officer not had his hand on me.

“Father Lud gave me a choice. He said I could go with the Officer, or I could return the following day and every other day after until he felt the worth of the broken window had been repaid.”

Carmilla quirked a brow. “Let me guess, you went back the next day?”

“I did. And every day after for two months. I helped keep the Church clean, organized the sheet music for the choir, swept, and yes-I replaced the window with Father Lud’s help.”

“I thought you were an Atheist, Fredrich.”

“I was and I still am-but I learned very valuable life lessons those two months, Carmilla. Lessons that ultimately shaped me to be a better member of society _and yes_ -led me to serve Austria.”

Carmilla nodded quietly. “You’re trying to help me heal.”

“I am. This is not an attempt to turn you to religion, Carmilla. It’s simply a, ah, uncommon way to repay your debt to the church while learning to find better ways to control your emotions. A way to get you out of the destructive lifestyle you’ve fallen into.”

Carmilla ran her hands through her messy hair and then let them fall heavily into her lap. She observed the chipped black nail polish on her short fingernails quietly for a few moments as she mulled the two options over in her head. It really wasn’t a hard choice.

“Fredrich… I think I already know, but what exactly do I have the chance to gain if I were to go to the Abbey?”

“Well, like I had explained, it would put minimal marks on your record. It would keep you in a quiet and secluded atmosphere for you to sort out what all’s going on in your head. And, forgive me for bringing this up, it could possibly open the door up to teaching.”

Carmilla’s head jerked up at the end and she eyed him suspiciously, her heart leaping uncomfortably in her chest. “I never told _you_ that.”

Fredrich smiled and leaned forward to rest an elbow on the arm of his chair. “No, but I remember young William telling me once that you used to play school house. He told me you were a very tough, yet fair, teacher.”

Oh. An old conversation.

“I gave that dream up a long time ago.” She muttered, picking at the chipped nail polish.

“Don’t you want it back?”

Carmilla shrugged weakly and sighed. “I just don’t want to go to jail.”

The Attorney nodded. “You understand that this is not going to be an easy life? There are no creature comforts in the Abbey. When you arrive, the belongings on your person including your clothing will be taken and stored. You won’t have access to your funds. There is no cable and there is no radio. The only phone is in the Mother Superior’s office and it’s for Church business and emergencies only. No profanity, and if you take the Lord’s name in vain you will quickly learn the prayer for forgiveness. The only alcohol on the premises is the wine for communion and I have been told that the Sisters there do not smoke… which I don’t think will be a huge problem for you anymore.”

Carmilla frowned and nodded, still wanting that cigarette.

“It’s also a very strict way of life. You will be living there so you will be following their schedule. Early to rise, early to bed. Your night owl days will be over until you finish serving there.”

Carmilla blinked back the tears that finally threatened to fall. Bile burned in the base of her throat and she just wish she had said no that night. She wouldn’t be here, she’d be out on her own with her friends, she’d have her bike, a girl or two on her arm, she wouldn’t be losing her autonomy… trapped.

“This is a good opportunity, Carmilla.” Fredrich continued gently. “This is a chance for you to start over. You could finally learn to stop being so afraid of what you could lose before you even gain it. Give yourself this chance, child.”

Carmila nodded minutely, hot tears finally tracking down her cheeks. She sniffed heavily and heaved herself up from the low chair, wiping her tears on the sleeves of her oversized sweater. Thunder rumbled lowly in the distance as the rain pattering gently on the glass. The worst of the storm had passed but the day was still gloomy.

Carmilla slumped further and breathed a tired sigh.

“Alright.”


	2. The Apple Tree: Part Two - Monday August 19, 1991

Carmilla stared blankly out the window.

The town car sped on and she slouched so low in her seat she could barely see out. The tree line zipped by against a deep blue sky full of fluffy white clouds, reflecting the exact opposite of her mood. Much to her surprise, Carmilla had actually been eager to walk out of the large mansion earlier that morning. Apparently there was coup of some sort happening in Soviet Russia, and she was glad to get away from her father and his manic attempts to contact his clients in Moscow. She had quietly bid her brothers goodbye the night before in their old playroom with a few stolen stiff drinks and countless fierce hugs. They had promised her through slurred tears that they would try to follow what they wanted most, just like she had encouraged them to do. Carmilla had weakly joked that they would succeed and pass their loser sister by. William and JP hadn’t thought her comment was funny like she pretended it was.

The car ride from their Estate outside of Graz and up over to Herberstein had been quiet, broken only by the odd comment or question from Fredrich and four quick client calls on his chunky black cellular phone. The Attorney had taken it upon himself to personally deliver Carmilla to the Abbey, sparing her an embarrassing police escort. She had tried to take in as much of Graz as she could from the town car, picking out familiar buildings and parks as they drove on. Carmilla tried not to look back as they left the city limits. But she was feeling afraid and allowed herself to look one last time before they crested the hill. She immediately wanted to jump out of the car and run home to her brothers.

Traffic was light and their route wasn’t terribly busy for a larger roadway, having only been held up inside the city from congestion of the weekday morning commute. Carmilla had suggested the Autobahn in an attempt to try to speed up the wait of the drive, but Fredrich grumped  _ tolls _ and that been all the time the Lawyer had wanted to spend on that topic. A little later she rearranged herself cross-legged in her seat, her feet tucked up underneath her as they skirted around Gleisdorf. Carmilla picked absentmindedly at the large tears the knees of her old faded jeans and dropped the shredded threads onto the floorboard. She had made sure to wear some clothes she didn’t particularly care about since she wouldn’t be seeing them for a while. Of course, she wouldn’t be seeing  _ any _ of her belongings for a while now, and made sure that her numerous pairs of leather pants and jackets had been carefully stored per her request. She had even moved her clothing with her books and guitars to a climate controlled storage facility with her own funds. Paranoia had made her take small legal steps to protect her belongings, much to Fredrich’s understanding and mild exasperation. He had tried to convince her to just leave them at the Karnstein Manor, but Carmilla didn’t trust her mother to leave her belongings alone.

Trees gave way to farm country and Carmilla watched in mild fascination as the rows and rows of crops danced by them in undulating uniform lines. She amused herself by counting the livestock before they were whisked away and continued to  _ pick pick pick _ at the holes in her pants. She longed for a good book, but it wasn’t worth starting one that she wouldn’t be able to finish for two years. Eventually the town car turned off of the highway and into a small town. They continued through the main street and onto a smaller country road headed due north.

“Not much longer now.” Fredrich murmured.

Carmilla could only nod and continued to stare out the window, not trusting her voice nor her stomach to keep down the slow building churn of bile. She had been ready to get the entire ordeal over with the night before under the influence of vodka, but now that she was almost to her new home for the next couple years? Her new  _ prison _ ? She wasn’t ready. It was starting to feel like a  _ huge _ mistake, even though she knew it was certainly a gift of her status and the goodness and leniency of the church to be given this particular opportunity. Carmilla didn’t need her mother or the tabloids to tell her that she was getting off easy.

After a few short minutes of zipping by yet even more quaint little houses and crop fields, the town car took slow trip through the tiny town of Sankt Johann bei Herberstein. Carmilla tried not to look at the grey-green waters of the small river they rode alongside, beating back the chilling memory of the icy weight of the Danube. The quaint stone houses quickly passed and soon they were accelerating up the hill. Fredrich pulled his briefcase to his feet and nodded ahead through the windshield.

“There it is.”

Carmilla turned her attention forward and watched an old cream-colored building with a terra cotta tiled roof rise into view. It was easily a couple centuries old by the looks of it. Probably an old restored and partially renovated castle-which wasn’t uncommon, but unfortunately could be drafty. The town car crested the hill and the grounds finally came into sight, green and flourishing in a riot of color. Next to the stately old building was a newer structure of a more modern design and far uglier than its historical counterpart. Wrapping around the southern most building, which was most likely the Sanctuary of the Abbey, was a mossy stone wall about two meters high. A simple low cropped lawn surrounded the buildings, gently manicured unlike the Karstein Estate’s lawns. Before the car turned off into a small gravel lot across the street, Carmilla was able to see the hints of a garden just beyond. Fredrich instructed the driver to wait and tuned Carmilla, who tried not to flinch as the clunk of the driver’s door opening punctuated their arrival.

“Ready or not, here we are.”

Carmilla swallowed down the bile in her throat. Fredrich softened at her very blatant show of nerves.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of. They’re mostly little old ladies.” He joked.

Carmilla found her voice and huffed. “Conservative old bags.”

“Ah, I must have forgotten to tell you. This is one of the more…  _ in-tune _ Abbeys. Though I should warn you in-tune does not necessarily mean hippie. They are understanding of how you young people are growing and changing even though their main focus is Religion. The Church at large may be strict, but this little Abbey is trying to keep up with the world.”

Carmilla gave him  _ a look _ .

“…well. Just use your best judgment.” He patted her on the knee with a grimace and got out of the car.

“ _ Just use your best judgment… _ ” She mocked bitterly under her breath and wrenched her own door open.

Her heavy leather boots scuffed on the asphalt, and a soft breeze of fresh air ruffled her shaggy bangs. The air smelled cleaner than she was used to. She took a deep steadying breath through her nose, finally feeling like she could breathe. It was quiet save for the sounds of light traffic in the town below and the distant yells of children playing in the local school yard. The tops of the ancient Yew trees bordering the Abbey grounds waved lazily in the summer morning. She faintly caught the clean sharpness of a multitude of herbs and rich tilled earth on a stronger breeze and wanted to go find the source. Birds sang brightly and she found it odd how easy it was to hear all of the trills of notes when they weren’t fighting against the sounds of heavy traffic.

It was quiet.

Calm.

It was as if something deep in her chest finally loosened. Carmilla slowly stepped away from the car with her hands limp at her sides as she took in the gentle world around her. Fredrich patiently sidled up to her in his crisp navy suit and let her look a moment longer before taking a step towards the Abbey.

Carmilla followed.

They made their way across the street and passed through the wide entrance framed by two simple brick pillars adorned with marble carvings of angels. Carmilla studied their rain-softened faces and steady hands stretched out in welcome as they crunched past. Fredrich led them to the right along the paved drive, past the small little building at the entrance that nondescriptly labeled itself as the welcome center and grounds keeper’s cottage. Carmilla could see an elderly man pottering around inside. Directly to the right of that was another small building of more modern architecture, this time with a scripted  _ Klosterladen _ sign mounted on the dark wood paneling of the outside of the structure. The Abbey’s shop to appease the visitors or those in the village who would want to support the institution in other ways. The door was propped open with a flowering potted plant and a sense of nostalgia washed over her as she caught sight of the shelves of simple goods inside the shop. It reminded her of the small harvest festivals she had attended as a child in Graz when a team of Nannies would take her and her brothers out in the fall. Fredrich switched his briefcase to his left hand and gestured to continue on past the most modern building on the campus, the ugly one. He followed her wrinkled nose and pointed to it.

“They only use that building for outside use. This is a popular spot for religious seminars and faith retreats.”

“So we’re going in there?” Carmilla asked, nodding to the restored castle.

“We are-oh look! There are some Sisters tending the gardens. Perhaps one of them can take us to the Mother Superior, I fear we’re a little early.  _ Good morning, Sister! _ ”

Carmilla stutter-stepped and gaped helplessly at Fredrich’s abrupt veer to the left and booming voice that broke through the tranquil morning and rang off the tall plastered walls of the castle. She had hoped to try to sneak in without being noticed… even though she knew that they would meet her all eventually. She had just wanted to ease herself into this new place with as little hullaballoo as possible. A kernel of frustration burned in her belly at her thwarted plans, but she quickly quashed it down. There was no use in throwing a fit over it now.

Carmilla followed the energetic Fredrich at a much more sedate pace, stuffing her hands deeply into the pockets of her indecently tight jeans. She watched carefully as a middle-aged woman clad in the traditional simple black habit of a Benedictine Nun greeted the tall attorney. Her bright pink rubber boots poked out from under the hem of her skirts as she stepped over the low stone border of the flower bed she had been weeding in, and tugged her gloves off to shake his hand. A second older Sister, hunched from age, tottered around the bed and shooed the pair off with a small pair of garden sheers and simple wooden cane she seemed to wave about instead of actually use. The elderly woman looked like an unsteady acrobat on a tightrope and Carmilla was overcome with the urge to act as a spotter for her. But instead she stopped and waited for the chattering pair to approach, a little concerned about the elderly Sister still tottering around with the shears behind them.

“Miss Karnstein, Sister Mary-Anne has graciously agreed to escort us to Mother Lilith! It seems that we made better time than intended.” Fredrich called out to her.

Carmilla stared.

“Lillith?”

The Sister sighed with a crooked smile. “She’s aware of how ironic her name is. Best not to bring it up.”

Carmilla half-heartedly shrugged a shoulder and tugged her hand from her pocket. She hastily wiped her palm on her thigh and offered if to the Sister, remembering the shreds of manners she still had left. It wouldn’t do to completely put her foot in her mouth on her first day.

“Good Morning, Sister.”

“Good Morning, Miss Karnstein. Welcome to Bertholdstein Abbey.”

Sister Mary-Anne took Carmilla’s hand and warmly shook it. Carmilla could tell that she was mildly surprised at the greeting, and it made her feel a little guilty about the reputation that clearly preceded her. She may not want to be here in the slightest, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to piss off the people who would be determining her future. She had gotten the message loud and clear.

“If you’ll just follow me I’ll take you up to her office.” Sister Mary-Anne smiled and serenely squeaked by in her pink rubber boots.

The sound tickled Carmilla and she stifled a snort of laughter under poorly faked cough, ignoring the warning look from Fredrich. The pair followed the stout woman down the paved path and through the tall arching entrance of the main ward to the yard within. The compacted gravel changed to a well-worn cobblestone that bordered the perimeter of the courtyard. In the middle was a small garden full of blooming flowers, fragrant herbs, and a handful of pruned gnarled conifers. In the very center of that was a young tree that couldn’t have been more than a few years old. Carmilla looked up and tried not to count the dark wooden sills that stood out starkly against the aged plaster. The sounds of modern day life were muffled in the space and it seemed as if time had come to a slow lull, eerily disturbed by their mismatched footsteps. Carmilla felt sorely out of place in her ripped jeans.

They arrived at a heavy oak door and Sister Mary-Anne lifted the iron latch with a tug, the well oiled hinges groaning as the door swung wide for them to pass through. It was cool and dark inside the wing, and it smelled musty from age despite the fact that a respectable number of people frequented its halls. The floor was smooth stone slabs that dipped slightly in the middle from hundreds of years of foot traffic. Carmilla and Fredrich followed Sister Mary-Anne and her squeaky boots down the dimly lit hall. Dust motes floated dreamily in the warm beams of sunlight they passed through and Carmilla felt as if she had been transported back in time.

Sister Mary-Anne led them to a staircase and up they went-one, two, three flights of stairs to the top floor. Carmilla was slightly embarrassed that she was the only one a bit out of breath by the time they reached the top. The Sister squeaked on in her pink rubber boots, the old wooden floorboards creaking and groaning with every other step she took. Carmilla let her heels drag on the simple burgundy rugs that stretched down the long hall. Sunlight streamed in through open windows and it was significantly warmer on the third floor.  _ Heat rises _ , the familiar voice of her grade school science teacher parroted in her head.

“The Sisters stay up on the top floor on the opposite wing, unfortunately much of this one is just used for storage and tours.” The Nun provided when she caught Carmilla slowing to peek into a dark side room over a velvet rope.

“It seems lonely… it’s very quiet.” Carmilla murmured.

Sister Mary-Anne tittered a gentle laugh. “It is, but it helps us focus our strengths into our duties and our prayers. I’ve found the quiet to be the easiest place to find the Lord.”

Carmilla nodded noncommittally, not really caring to believe the Sister but understanding all the same. There was healing in silence. She had learned that much in those long and seemingly endless months back in Graz. On they went without another pause. The bell in the steeple of Bertholdstein tolled warmly at the quarter hour just as they reached the end of the hall.

“This way, please.”

They rounded the corner and came to a halt in front of another large oak door, carefully carved and fitted with a newer modern doorknob. On either side of the door were wooden benches with well-used deep red cushions. Across from the door an open window overlooked the courtyard.

“Wait here.”

The Sister knocked politely and disappeared into the room when a muffled “ _ enter _ ” filtered through the door. Carmilla turned to the window and propped her elbows up onto the wooden windowsill. She heard one of the benches creak behind her as Fredrich took a seat. She sighed deeply and dropped her chin onto her forearm as the finality of her situation hit her.

This was it. The end of the line, for now.

While it could have been much worse, Carmilla knew that her life was going to change whether she wanted it to or not. The truth, simply put, was that she hoped she would be able to fix some of the habits that tended to enable her bad decision-making. She had gone too long on the edge of the blade. Too long so tightly wound she had lost herself, putting her trust in people who shunned her when they found out who she really was, or rather what she was like. It was exhausting and she could feel the pull of it in her bones.

Carmilla was  _ tired _ .

At least here in the Abbey she wouldn’t have to worry about paparazzi. One of the stipulations in the deal had been a very large restraining order-at her request. If she was going to do this the right way, then she wanted to be removed from the limelight. It was probably never really going to work, but the less attention she got from the press, the less her parents would be on her back, and the quicker she could move back to Vienna and start up her life again. Maybe this time she would complete the end of her classes and open a small coffee and book shop. Her mind started to wander about what kind of books she would stock her shelves with, from philosophy to art history to poetry starting with Sappho.

Fredrich must have sensed that she didn’t want to talk to him because he busied himself with something in his briefcase. For that small reprieve Carmilla was thankful, and was enjoying staring off into space and wishing for a cup of black coffee that she would have in her own coffee shop when the door creaked open.

“Mother Superior will see you now.”

Carmilla’s heart leapt into her throat as she was ripped from her day dream, and she mentally braced herself for the inevitable. She didn’t want to do this, god she  _ really _ didn’t want to do this.

But, she had to.

Life is full of doing things you don’t want to do.

“Thank you Sister Mary-Anne, you’ve been very helpful!” Fredrich answered and levered himself to his feet, his briefcase tucked under his lanky arm.

Carmilla slowly straightened up and turned, only to nearly run right into the Sister. The woman tittered another gentle laugh and patted her on the shoulders before stepping back.

“I’ll see you at midday, Miss Karnstein. Have a safe journey back to Graz, Mr. Steinbach. May God watch over you in your travels!”

Carmilla watched the stout woman bustle back the way they came. She watched her go in a swish of black fabric as the squeaks of her pink rubber boots faded around the corner.

“Miss Karnstein?”

Carmilla snapped back to attention at Fredrich’s call from inside the office and cautiously stepped inside with her eyes on her boots.

“Please close the door, child.” A warm alto voice called.

Carmilla did as she was bid and tried not to flinch at the sound of the latch clicking home. She turned and swallowed thickly, her tongue like sandpaper in her mouth. At a simple wooden desk was a woman in her late sixties, though aging gracefully. Her habit was pristine and carefully donned, simple narrow reading glasses hung from around her neck on a plain leather thong next to a polished wooden cross. Carmilla could see in the deep blue eyes and high cheekbones that this woman had been incredibly imposing when she was younger. She still was, but now that once-commanding profile was framed with laugh lines and crows feet. The Mother Superior had barely any jowl accented by her white wimple and coif, her jaw still rather angular. The bandeau around her forehead made the black veil fall in sloping sweeps down her back. As she stood, her plain black scapular swept to the side, revealing her long black tunic held up with a rope belt. Lastly there was a rosary worn smooth from use and countless prayers rattling quietly at her side as she stepped around her desk. Carmilla wouldn’t dare admit it, but this tall willowy woman intimidated her. She looked like one of those Nun characters from that silly American musical about a Nun falling in love with a Naval Captain.

“Welcome to Bertholdstein, Miss Karnstein.”

Unsure if she was supposed to offer her hand or bow, Carmilla managed a polite head nod and let her hands lace tightly in front of her in a non-threatening posture, managing to croak out the most polite  _ thank you _ she could muster. The older woman regarded her with a keen eye and Carmilla felt as if she had just been stripped bare in front of her. This woman knew what she had done and she knew about her and what she was capable of. Normally the divulgence of this information wouldn’t bother her, after all she was well acquainted with the attention, but the way this woman studied her set her teeth on edge. The Mother Superior pursed her lips together minutely.

“I can see you’re uncomfortable. Perhaps we should move along to the legal part of this meeting, and then I can answer any questions you may have. I’ll try to make this as painless and as quick as possible.” She relented with a small tip of her head.

Carmilla shakily released her breath and found her voice, happy to talk about something she already knew too much about. “Thank you, Mother Superior.”

The title was foreign to her tongue and it felt very odd to say, but she didn’t stumble. It seemed that all those years of forced social schooling were still deeply ingrained in her, and Carmilla sank silently into one of the seats in front of the old desk.

An hour passed as Fredrich carefully walked Carmilla and the Mother Superior through all of the legal documents. Normally he wouldn’t be so nit-picky but the Nun had many questions and half the time she would surprisingly turn to Carmilla to get her opinion. It was actually a very smart move and it clued the Head Nun in to how intelligent the wayward punk actually was. Carmilla could tell that as the meeting went on the Mother Superior became more and more pleased with her answers and reasoning. Every now and then the Mother Superior would chicken-peck with her pointer fingers at the clunky off-white keyboard of the humming monitor on her desk, making notes of their discussion. It was definitely an older model and Carmilla was tempted to figure out how good the Internet connection was. At the end of the stack of documents, the older woman turned to her,

“Miss Karnstein, do you want to be here?”

Carmilla balked at the question and her mouth worked for a long moment.  _ Of course _ she didn’t want to be there. She wasn’t religious at all, and now because of her own stupid decisions she was forced to spend a two-year probationary period in service to the Church or risk imprisonment? Of fucking  _ course _ she didn’t want to be there.

However.

Snipping back with more coarse language would certainly set her off on the wrong foot, and Carmilla wanted to get this over with in the allotted time and not  _ longer _ .

“It… isn’t my first choice.” She supplied with a tentative shrug. It was the most polite answer she had given all day.

Mother Lilith laughed heartily and signed her loopy signature onto one of the blank lines. “That was a very diplomatic answer.”

Carmilla shrugged again, not really having a response to her comment. The Mother Superior had correctly deciphered her answer. She didn’t want to be there, but at least it wasn’t a holding cell.

She took the pen Fredrich offered and hastily scribbled her own signature before she lost her nerve completely. A sense of finality slammed into her chest as she gave the pen back and watched him finish signing off the documents. Fredrich packed them carefully into his case and rose to his feet after allowing the Mother Superior to retain photo copies for her own records. Carmilla felt her heart rate pick up and nervously climbed out of her chair.

“It appears I have completed all of what I needed to do, except for one last thing.” He turned to Carmilla with a gentle smile and held open his arms.

Carmilla fell into his embrace without a second thought and wrapped her arms about his ribs and held on as tightly as she could. Tears burned in the base of her throat but she swallowed them down, trying instead to commit the feel of this last hug to memory. She wasn’t sure when she would get a real hug after this. Besides her brothers, this man would be the only other person that she would deeply miss. He hugged her back fiercely and squeezed her shoulders comfortingly when she wouldn’t pull away. Carmilla heard the Mother Superior turn away towards a filling cabinet to try to give them a moment of privacy. After a long moment his voice rumbled soothingly in his chest against her ear.

“Come now, Carmilla. It will be alright.”

“Will you visit?” She asked, her voice rough as she finally stepped back.

Fredrich gently took her by the shoulders, a more fatherly gesture of comfort than her own had ever given her. “I wish I could. But this time, showing up here before your two years are up is the last thing we need to happen. It will move quicker than you think. So be good, follow the rules. And remember, this is a chance.  _ Take it _ .”

Carmilla nodded weakly and pressed her clenched her fists into the tops of her thighs to keep from reaching back out. Fredrich let go of her shoulders and she immediately missed his support. The Attorney gathered up his briefcase and bid his farewells to the Mother Superior, confirming that he would check in via phone once a month as agreed upon in the documents. He strode to the door a pulled it open, looking back one last time at Carmilla with a gentle smile.

“I’ll see you soon.”

And with that he was out the door and gone with the soft click of the latch. Carmilla stood awkwardly in the middle of the Mother Superior’s office before clumsily sinking back into her chair when she noticed she was being watched. She blinked away her tears, dashing her pride to the side, and took a steadying breath to show that she was ready to continue. Mother Lilith smiled reassuringly and pulled a drawer open with a muffled scrape.

“I’ve made a copy of this month’s schedule for you and included a general daily schedule. Hopefully you will learn and memorize it quickly during your time here.” She handed a small sheaf of papers across the desk. “Let’s go through that first before we continue.”

“You will rise at five-thirty with the Sisters and attend the  _ Lauds _ -or morning prayers-at six. Breakfast is served promptly at seven. Following breakfast you will attend daily prayers at seven forty-five then you will work or study til noon. For the first few months I’ll have you shadow a few different Sisters starting with your roommate. I’ve assigned you to stay with Sister Mary-Eileen Hollis. She’s just a year older than you I believe. I’ve personally found it's easier to befriend someone closer to your own age. I pray this will be comforting in this period of upheaval.”

“At noon you will attend the midday prayer and then be offered time for lunch. You will return to work throughout the afternoon until Vespers at seventeen forty-five. Evening meal is served at nineteen hundred with all Sisters and time will be allowed to wrap up the day’s work if need be in the remaining time.  _ Compline _ -or final prayers-are held at twenty hundred hours and then nocturnal silence will be held until lights out at roughly twenty-two thirty but no later than twenty-three hundred hours. However we do relax the silence in the summer so we may enjoy evening walks as the weather and daylight allow. Do you have any questions?”

Carmilla had followed along with her printed schedule and shook her head. It was a lot. It was also way earlier than she had been getting up regularly for years and tomorrow morning was going to be an unpleasant shock to her system. And a  _ lot _ of prayer. She didn’t want to participate but it seems skipping was out of the question. Perhaps she could just participate through being present and listening? Religion wasn’t really a strong interest for her.

“Good. We have Choir Practice on Thursday mornings at nine-fifteen, though I will leave that up to you if you would like to participate or not. Most of the Sisters do but there are a few that insist their voices would surely offend the Lord.” She joked. Carmilla tried to force a smile but didn’t really succeed past an awkward grimace.

“Sunday services are at eight-thirty and eleven, and there are Sunday schools offered at nine-thirty for all ages. You will be helping Sister Hollis with the young children.”

The Mother Superior folded her hands carefully on her desk and Carmilla felt  _ the talk _ coming.

“Miss Karnstein… There are rules that you must follow when staying on the grounds, and breaking these rules will affect the legality of your presence.”

“I doubt you knew this, but our Abbey is… a tad more aware of the outside world than many. I am aware of your particular  _ lifestyle _ ,” She raised a hand gently when Carmilla’s head snapped up “-and I assure you that won’t be a problem. We may be women of God but the Sisters here will not give you grief. We are here to serve the Lord and through that serve our community. Not ostracize you.”

Carmilla physically slumped in her chair, feeling like she had just been spun like a top.

“However, the rules of maintaining a frugal and celibate lifestyle remain and you must follow them. There are no unauthorized visitors to the Abbey and you are not allowed to leave the grounds without my explicit permission. You must follow the general rules of the Abbey day-to-day and if you have any questions please ask any of the Sisters. If any of these rules are broken more than once then we will be contacting your lawyer to see if you will continue the remainder of your service here or elsewhere. We have also prohibited smoking on the grounds because of health and fire safety concerns. There is also no cursing and certainly under no circumstance must you take the Lord’s name in vain.”

“I have also been told that you lash out when under duress-which is  _ why _ I have placed you with Sister Hollis. Her earlier temperament may have rivaled yours and she has learned successfully how to curb her inquisitive yet abrasive behavior. She is still very curious, however she now has the maturity she lacked. I don’t expect this to be easy for you, but I hope that by pairing you with Sister Hollis, you can learn how to lead a less confrontational life.”

The Mother Superior rose from her seat and picked up a cardboard box that had been behind her desk. She set it in front of Carmilla and rested her hands on the edges.

“Inside are six changes of lay clothes, some undergarments, stockings, shoes-which may not fit since the size that was ordered was incorrectly delivered,” She grumbled that sentence to herself.

“-a headscarf, and a cross pendant. While you are here you will dress as a Novitiate. This should hopefully help you feel included and therefore more comfortable. You must keep your hair covered to the best of your abilities. A heavy jacket and leggings or trousers will be given to you once the weather turns but for now you needn’t worry.”

Mother Lilith pushed the box towards her. “Now. If you will take this and follow me I will take you to your shared quarters.”

Carmilla rose from her seat again and gingerly picked up the box. She quietly followed the Mother Superior out of the office and trudged along behind, trying not to make too much noise. She trailed behind the tall woman and took care not to follow too closely, feeling small next to her towering frame. Her habit wasn’t trailing, but it did have an impressive billow. Instead of going back the way they came, they took a left out of the office and made their way quickly into a mirrored stairwell at the corner of the old castle. Mother Lilith took them down to the second floor and led Carmilla back to the right, switching back the way they had come.

“We keep the living quarters on the second and first floors at the back of the complex. It’s quieter and it’s a lovely view out across the countryside. There is a lounge at the far end of this hall-“ She began as they turned the corner, pointing to a dark room. “-here. And there is another on the first floor as well. Our elderly Sisters or those who have a hard time getting around tend to stay on the first floor.”

The second floor looked identical to the third however there were more homey touches of flowers in hand made pottery vases, simple curtains on the courtyard facing windows, and a painted portrait of who Carmilla assumed was Jesus Christ in the center of the hallway.  _ And _ it was less dusty. Or rather, more lived-in. The bell tower tolled eleven-thirty and Mother Lilith bustled a little quicker down the hall. They went all the way down to the end and slipped inside the last doorway. It was a small homely room with a single widow thrown wide to look out across the forested countryside. There were two small twin beds immaculately made on opposites sides of the room, and a small bedside table between them under the window. There was a single small wooden desk and chair on the left just inside the door and a simple boxy wardrobe to the right. There was no door, but a heavy two-layered curtain tied off to the side. A small crucifix was attached to the wall over each bed, and the wall above the desk held a few crayon drawings clearly done by children. Mother Lilith turned to Carmilla and cleared her throat.

“Once you’ve changed please put your clothes and any items on you into the box. I would like for it to be returned to my office today before the evening meal so that I may properly store it and keep it safe during your stay here at the Abbey. Do you have any questions, my child?”

“I-um… when is Sister Hollis going to be here?” She ventured.

“She’ll collect you after the Noon prayer for lunch, so possibly half after at the latest. This should give you plenty of time to change and become acquainted with your new living space.”

Carmilla nodded and finally stepped tentatively into the room with her box clutched to her stomach. “Thank you, I think… I think I’m okay for now.”

The Mother Superior nodded and gently touched the younger woman’s elbow. “Have faith, Miss Karnstein. All will be well with time.”

And with that she stepped out of the room, quickly told her the direction to go to find the bathrooms, and retreated back the way she came with a dull click of her booted heel. Carmilla didn’t move until she couldn’t hear her any longer. A shaky breath escaped her chest and her emotions spilled out in the form of scorching tears. She sat down hard on the small wooden chair and the box slipped from her grasp and landed on the floor with a thump. She couldn’t will away the tears or the overwhelming sense of loneliness, so she finally let herself cry. The last time she had cried was right after her wreck.

Ugly quiet sobs wracked her frame as she cradled her head in her hands. What had she gotten herself into? For the first time in a  _ long _ time Carmilla was utterly embarrassed and disappointed in herself. She lost track of time and was sullenly sitting there when the bell tower tolled noon and faint choral singing reached her. It was an otherworldly, high and lilting soaring up in a harmonized aria. It reminded her of that stereotypical American movie with the nuns John Paul had made her watch and half expected to hear a vibrant young nun sprinting across the courtyard, late from whirling about in the hills. No footsteps came, almost to her disappointment, and the music continued so Carmilla wearily heaved herself to her feet and tugged the heavy curtain closed. Maybe she was that wayward young nun in this world? Carmilla snorted derisively at the thought. She picked the box up and shuffled over to the small twin bed on the right that still had a fresh pile of neatly folded linens on it. The other had a yellow pillow, and Carmilla deduced that it was Sister Hollis’s bed. One by one she removed the contents and laid them out.

Along with the clothing and shoes was a second plastic container that held the basic toiletries and necessities a young woman would need. Carmilla grumbled at the granny panties and wished she could just wear her own, even if they were against the dress code. She quickly picked out a full outfit of a blouse and high-waisted skirt, wrinkling her nose at the opaque hosiery. The countess quickly shed her wrist cuffs and all of her jewelry before whipping the loose black top off. She quickly switched bras and shrugged on the starched white blouse. Nimble fingers buttoned it almost the way up and tugged dark locks from under the stiff collar.

Next she untied the knots out of her laces and tugged the pair of her more conservative leather boots off her feet. Socks were hastily peeled off and folded into a messy ball without care. It felt more risqué than usual to be shimmying out of her tight pants to distant church music. Careful not to pull a run, Carmilla rolled on the knee-high opaque stockings and left the full-legged pairs for cooler weather. Once she was satisfied with those she eyed the granny panties again. Carmilla  _ almost _ threw them out the window but figured that actually wouldn’t play in her favor. With much disgruntled ire she slid her own underwear off and donned the dreaded granny panties with a frown.

Carmilla was determined not to look at the offending underwear for longer than necessary and tugged on the skirt. She buttoned up the waist and twisted it to the back, assuming that was correct based off of older clothing she had grown up with. The starched blouse was tucked into the skirt and it made Carmilla feel like a schoolgirl again. Unfortunately, it turned out that the Mother Superior had been right, the black nurse-looking shoes were a size and a half too small. There was no way that Carmilla would be able to wear them comfortably so she replaced them back in the box and jammed her feet back into her boots. At least they were black and not very flashy. There was also a black lightweight jacket in the box as well so she set that to the side in case she wanted it later.

Her only remaining opponent was the simple veil. And she had absolutely no idea how to properly put it on. It looked easy enough, but it would be more helpful to have someone show her how to do it. Carmilla figured that Sister Hollis would be on her way soon so she went ahead and folded her clothes into the box she had been given. She busied herself by making her small bed, something she also couldn’t do terribly well, but she managed well enough. When she was putting her pillow back at the head of the bed a folded note on the bedside table next to a small homely vase of flowers and rosemary caught her eye. It was written in pencil on a piece of lined paper torn from a hand-notebook. It read;

_ Miss Karnstein, _

__

_ I have emptied the left side of the wardrobe for your belongings. I am looking forward to meeting you! _

__

_ Yours in faith, _

_ Sister Hollis _

Carmilla had tossed the note into the box to keep it out of the way and hung her extra blouses up in the wardrobe just as the faint songs of praise came to an end. She finished putting her clothes away on the simple shelves in the bottom half and closed it up. She roughly combed her fingers through her hair and stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do next. She looked around the room and her eye was drawn back to the colorful crayon drawings above the desk. There were quite a few Jesus Christs in all of their stick figure glory, but her favorite of the batch was the one riding a fire breathing Godzilla.

From down the hall she heard the sounds of some Sisters exiting the stairs the Mother Superior had brought them down. By the timbre of their voices she could hear one was quite old, and one young voice with a few others. Perhaps four of them in all? Carmilla’s heart started to beat fast with nerves and she retreated to her part of the room and sat on the edge of her bed, hands laced tightly in her lap. A pair of the Sisters broke away halfway down the hall and the oldest and youngest continued on their way in Carmilla’s direction. She stood just as the same elderly Nun who had been waving about the sheers earlier toddled in, her cane waving about.

“Ah! There she is. And presentable too!” She exclaimed in a crackly voice and took a hold of the back of the small wooden chair, still refusing to actually set her cane on the ground.

Carmilla was about to speak when the youngest Sister she had seen that day appeared in the doorway. It had been a long time since a woman had struck Carmilla dumb. She was… attractive, so say the least. She quite suddenly had a sinking suspicion that this was going to be a little tricker than she originally thought.

“Sister Gertrude, I told you to wait.” The younger woman chastised gently, a smile tugging at her lips.

“You move too slowly for me, I have prayers to say and places to be! But enough, Lady Karnstein! Or rather Miss Karnstein, we’ve been instructed to you’re your title for privacy. Forgive my rudeness, child.”

Carmilla was jolted from unabashedly staring and ripped her eyes from Sister Hollis in the doorway, feeling a little warm under the heavily starched collar. “I-uh-hello?”

“She speaks! And here I thought you were a mute, child. Well come here, my eyes aren’t as good as they once were.”

Carmilla obliged the elderly nun and took a few steps toward her, still very aware of Sister Hollis in the doorway and forcing herself to not look in her direction. The old Nun reached out and latched onto Carmilla’s bicep, peering up into the startled Countess’s face. Her skin was tan and full of wrinkles, squinty watery grey eyes were magnified comically behind thick glasses. Bushy white brows furrowed seriously as she leaned in.

“Don’t worry dearie, we won’t tell anyone you were upset.” She whispered kindly and Carmilla couldn’t help but drop her eyes to the floor in shame.

“Now now, chin up! I’ll leave you two to get acquainted, this old biddy needs her lunch!”

Carmilla stepped back and let the elderly Nun toddle her way out of the room, a  _ don’t be too late! _ thrown over her shoulder at Sister Hollis. Carmilla let her eyes wander back to the young woman in front of her and stuck out her hand.

“Sister Hollis?”

“Miss Karnstein.” Her golden brown eyes twinkled and she took her hand. Her grip was a lot stronger than she expected. “Welcome to Bertholdstein. It seems we’ve ordered you the wrong shoes.”

Carmilla tore her gaze from where she had been studying Sister Hollis’s soft brows. She looked down to her boots and couldn’t help but wiggle her toes a little.

“Yeah, uh… they were too small.”

“Well, I guess those will do until we can get you the right size then.” She released Carmilla’s hand with a friendly squeeze. Carmilla missed the steady warmth instantly. “You’ve laid your veil out. Would you like some help?”

“Oh-yes, please.” She sat down clumsily on the wooden chair and grimaced in embarrassment when Sister Hollis’s back was turned.

_ Square up, you pansy. Since when are you a floppy mess around a girl? _ Carmilla mentally chastised herself.

Sister Hollis crossed the tiny room again with a swish of her long skirts to Carmilla and had the comb from her new toiletries and the veil in her hands. She handed her the veil to hold and got to work combing the wild black locks into submission as gently as she could. The Sister worked in silence until Carmilla’s hair fell in glossy waves around her shoulders.

“There, that’s better. You have beautiful hair.” She commented, placing the comb on the desktop. “Now the easiest way to wear your veil is to tuck it into your hair, which means braiding it back.” She held out an elastic hair tie and stepped to the side.

Carmilla hesitated for a moment and gave it a shot, flushing nervously under Sister Hollis’s watchful gaze because she didn’t want to appear entirely helpless. She was a grown woman, dammit, she can braid her hair. She stared herself down in the modest mirror on the door of the wardrobe. Carmilla knew it was a clumsy and uneven braid but tied it off all the same. She took a hairpin from the Sister and stuck it in her teeth while she twisted the lumpy braid into an even lumpier bun at the base of her skull. Carmilla hesitated again and glanced at the other woman who patiently waved her hand in a diagonally upward motion before re-lacing her fingers patiently in front of her. The Countess dug the pin in and was mildly surprised when her hair stayed.

“Not too bad. You’ll get better with practice.” Sister Hollis winked. Carmilla didn’t know whether to take it as a condescending comment or a placating compliment. It made her very quickly pull her head out of her ass.

“Now take your veil and put the very center just below your hair line-just like that, good. Take the corners and pull them down across the top of your ears and find were they end-” She held out two more pins. “-and then secure them with these.”

Carmilla did as she was told and let the Sister fuss with how it fell around her shoulders. It wasn’t as long as the Nun’s, but it was still quite conservative.

Carmilla hated it.

“There. Now how about you take your jacket just in case, and we can head on down to lunch. I’ll show you the grounds after that and then Mother Superior has given me permission to walk you through some basic tasks this afternoon. Starting tomorrow you’ll be with me for the time being. Any questions?”

Carmilla wanted to tell her that she was a little bossy but decided against it for now. If she was to live with this woman for  _ three fucking years _ it was probably in her best interest not to get on her bad side. She settled for shaking her head. The veil felt really odd on her head and shoulders, and the back of her neck felt uncomfortably exposed to the air.

“You’re more reserved than I thought you would be.” The Sister mused.

“You’re pretty chatty for a Nun.” Carmilla fired back with a lopsided grin, immediately reading  _ reserved _ as a replacement for  _ polite _ . If that’s the game they’re going to play then that was fine by her. “Or should I say roommate?”

Carmilla crowed smugly in her head when Sister Hollis raised an eyebrow at the challenge and took a sweeping step towards the doorway. She would take banter over stuffiness.

“ _ Sister _ , not Nun. And I can work with roommate. Come on, I’m starved and we have a lot to do today.”

Carmilla picked up her jacket and followed the young Sister out into the hallway.

“What about my things?”

“I thought we could run them by after lunch before we continue our activities.”

The Countess hummed in agreement and touched the tied back curtain as she exited the room. “So… no doors?”

“Why would we need them? It is only us and the Lord, we don’t need to hide.”

That wasn’t exactly the answer Carmilla had expected but she nodded anyways. “So…” She started again, pausing when she caught Sister Hollis’s quirk of a smile.

“Sister? Not Nun?”

“All of us are, actually. If we were full monastic Nuns we would be a lot quieter and your attorney wouldn’t have been able to enter the grounds. Becoming a Religious Sister instead allows us to go out into the community and serve alongside our studies even with vows of poverty.”

Carmilla nodded carefully and filed that information away. She had been wondering because a lot of the poking around she had done told her that Nuns usually lived in protected communities physically divided from the outside world with a grate. She had been relieved when Bertholdstein wasn’t as locked down as she had expected. Carmilla followed Sister Hollis down the steps and back onto the first floor, their steps echoing softly with the swish of their skirts. The Sister chattered away about the Abbey’s history and how the original Nunnery had been founded in Prague in 1889 and then raised in status to an Abbey in 1893. She glossed over the Abbey moving to the Bertholdstein castle after the First World War, and then how the National Socialites took it away in 1942 and the Nuns expelled. She crossed herself, expression somber. Then took a deep breath and continued on, telling Carmilla it was reclaimed in 1946 and since then has been striving to enrich and educate the community while maintaining their duties as religious sisters.

By the time Sister Hollis had finished her brief history lesson they were on the opposite side of the building from where she had been originally been brought in, but at a cellar level. The air was cool and dry but it smelled clean and earthy. Bronze sconces glowing with warm halogen bulbs made it feel incredibly cozy despite the gaudy tile laminate flooring that was normally found in public schools. They paused outside a large room, soft chatter humming just inside.

“Are you ready?”

Carmilla gave her  _ a look _ , unable to completely reign in her upheaval of emotions, and the Sister smiled in sympathy, gently touching her elbow.

“I understand. I’ll be your buffer. Come on, it’s just sandwiches and some fruit but I’m sure it’ll fill you up just as well as what you normally have.”

When they entered the room Carmilla could have sworn there were a few dozen laser beams boring into her, but when she looked around all she found were curious and welcoming gazes. A few even raised a hand in welcome to her. Carmilla tentatively returned the waves. She let Sister Hollis guide her to one end of the room that was partially divided into a large kitchen behind aluminum divider blinds. Three sisters bustled around assembling the simple meal for about sixteen more sisters waiting patiently. The table closest to the line was occupied by Sister Gertrude and Sister Mary-Anne and her squeaky boots, with three others. The elderly Sister waved an apple slice at the two remaining seats as a way to say  _ I saved them for you! _ with a mouth full of her sandwich.

Even though she barely knew anyone, Carmilla was still grateful that she had been immediately included into a small group. They were far from the kind of people she would normally seek out, but it was like they had decided to become her support group without anyone asking them to. It was really very sweet of them. Carmilla figured it was easier to go along with them rather than fight and make herself and everyone around her unhappy. Quite frankly, she was tired of being unhappy. Maybe after she got through this she’d just take her money and run off to Paris to live over a little bookstore coffee shop and help out with the hours to pay her rent. 

No cameras, no screaming fans, no blurry nights of alcohol and sex where she didn’t know where she was or who she was sleeping with or if she would even get home in one piece. Carmilla was getting tired and tired of being ostracized for her status and her sexuality. She just wanted some peace and quiet. And maybe a cigarette.

Yeah.

That sounded nice.

The line moved quickly and soon she and Sister Hollis had collected their meals and taken the last two empty chairs. Carmilla was about to pick up her sandwich, but paused when Sister Hollis folded her hands and bowed her head. She quickly mimicked the other woman, not wanting to look like a complete asshole, and waited patiently while a prayer was softly recited and an echo of  _ amen _ came from the table when it was completed.

“Now we can eat.” Sister Hollis invited and dug into her simple ham and cheese sandwich.

Carmilla ate even though she didn’t feel hungry and listened to the idle discussion at the table. She learned the other three Sister’s names and promptly forgot them, but remembered that they all spent significant time taking care of the impressive herb garden that was used in some of their teas and honeys they sold in the store and kept in their kitchens. Sister Squeaky Boots Mary-Anne helped with routine grounds keeping, that she had been doing when Carmilla arrived, and helped keep the Beehives in the slope behind the Abbey. She learned that the robust Sister Gertrude had once been the beekeeper but now she just did what she could and took on more lay duties as her health and balance declined with her age. Not that she was sick, but  _ oh no my child, I’m just old and that’s what happens. _ Sister Gertrude was also incredibly feisty and Carmilla liked her a  _ lot _ .

They finished their meal and true to her word, Sister Hollis marched them back up three flights of stairs, much to Carmilla’s displeasure, to retrieve her belongings. The Mother Superior wasn’t in her office, but Sister Hollis left the box in one of the wooden chairs with a note about the ill-fitting shoes and hustled them out.

“Let’s take a tour, shall we?”

Without waiting for an actual response Sister Hollis whisked Carmilla away on a whirlwind spin about the Abbey, showing her first the main quarters and floors of the castle before taking her to the church and then all over the grounds. By the time they were done it was creeping on the middle of the afternoon and Carmilla was aching, not used to being on her feet for so long. Sensing that she was tired, Sister Hollis took her to the special climate-controlled library in a sub basement and let her decide on some readings she’d like to study later. Being surrounded by texts of knowledge-even if they weren’t her usual pick of philosophical works-made Carmilla feel rejuvenated. This was a space that she could be comfortably herself in. She asked if there was any need for work down here, trying her best to keep most of her eagerness out of her tone, and felt boosted in spirit when Sister Hollis said she’d ask.

After about half an hour to forty-five minutes spent in the sub basement, Sister Hollis took Carmilla up into a more friendly and accessible Library with modern prints of religious texts and theologies and histories. Throughout their tour, Carmilla got a better handle for who Sister Hollis was as a person. Bright and nerdy, but almost  _ too _ quizzical in nature, she started grating on Carmilla’s nerves. Gone was the initial attraction, only to be replaced with the desire to stuff the black veil into the Sister’s mouth for a moment of silence. Sister Hollis seemed completely focused on the wellbeing of others with no overtly examples of self worth other than she liked yoga. Any of the personal questions Carmilla tried to wheedle out of Sister Hollis turned into her deflecting questions back at her or side stepping into safe stories that included or focused on her fellow Sisters.

Carmilla decided Sister Hollis was a slightly obnoxious yet overly loquacious bottle of condensed sunshine that was sure to wear her out. She didn’t know when or if they’d be friends since they didn’t appear to share a lot of interests, but Carmilla decided that she could deal with it to the best of her abilities… and the length of her patience. Hopefully that patience would last through her entire three years at Beroldstein, but then again perhaps not.

She could only hope.

* * *

The simple alarm clock buzzed at promptly 5:30 the following morning, jolting Carmilla from a heavy sleep. She groaned pitifully and threw her arm over her eyes while Sister Hollis rolled over and slapped it a few times before she got it turned off. Carmilla had not been able to fall asleep as early as her roommate had and laid in her tiny cot for hours until the small clock on their bedside table read well after one. Her body ached from both the lack of sleep and the homely mattress but she forced herself to poke a foot out from her covers. Sister Hollis had sluggishly hauled herself from her bed and untwisted her simple cotton nightgown with a face full of sleep. Carmilla had discovered the night before that she had long beautiful honey-brown hair, but now it stuck up at the oddest angles.

The next twenty minutes consisted of them crossing to the adjacent hall to wash their faces and brush their teeth amidst the other Sisters, some more chipper than most, and dressing for the day. They both awkwardly changed with their backs to one another, still too new to each other to forget modesty. Carmilla decided her legs were made of lead as she wearily followed the sisters to their morning  _ lauds _ , feeling a little nauseous as the prayers started just after the bell tower tolled six. She remained silent and observed through the long forty minutes, standing and sitting and kneeling with the Sisters. The Countess knew her temper was short but she realized it must have shown on her face after  _ lauds _ when Laura turned to her and paused,

“…Let’s go get some coffee before I walk you through our schedule today.” 

Carmilla could have praised the Lord, but her sarcasm probably would have earned a reproach.

Luckily, the scalding beverage was strong and black, just how Carmilla liked it. It wasn’t the high end roasts she had been pampered with, but it wasn’t the watery weak bean water she had been expecting… so she wasn’t  _ too _ disappointed. She sucked down two cups of it, Sister Hollis taking her one cup with nearly more sugar and cream than actual coffee, and ate her simple breakfast of jam on toast and soft-boiled eggs. After their quick meal the Sisters attended the session of Daily Prayers where some of the residents of the town gathered to participate. Carmilla new she stood out in her lay clothes with the Sisters in their full habits, but thankfully Sister Hollis used discretion and got them in and out of the Sanctuary without being stopped.

Their morning consisted of helping with basic housekeeping chores including sweeping all of the walkways and raking out dead leaves in the garden beds. Within the first hour Carmilla could feel blisters forming on her palms through her borrowed work gloves, and by the second they had popped and grown numb. She stubbornly didn’t say anything  _ and wouldn’t have _ for her pride except Sister Hollis caught her grimacing in their third hour. Carmilla immediately regretted not saying anything earlier when she got an earful from the Sister. The gentle fussing only made her mood worse.

They halted their yard work half an hour early and took a short stop at the small infirmary in the sub basement. Carmilla begrudgingly let Sister Hollis doctor her hands, first by cleaning them with hydrogen peroxide and then bandaging them with a healthy slathering of a generic antibacterial ointment. She was too full of hot, jumpy, frustration-leaning-anger to really hold a conversation with her  _ babysitter _ . Because that’s who Sister Hollis was. Her glorified babysitter. Carmilla’s mood marginally improved as she attended the Noon prayer and sat in awe as the bright harmonies of the Sisters and few locals in attendance floated high into the rafters of the Sanctuary that reminded her of the hull off a ship. Yes, it was Church Music, but it was still music. It was almost ethereal.

The prayers ended and they ate lunch with the same group as the day before. Carmilla ached for another cup of coffee after her scant four hours of sleep and morning of manual labor but unfortunately there was none to be found. After explaining to Sister Gertrude about Carmilla’s hands, the Countess was traded off to the elderly Sister and her afternoon was filled with learning about lay duties and how to care for the alter. It was a lot to learn but Carmilla did have a knack for retaining information.

Just not names.

The remaining time before the daily Vespers at a quarter til five flew by quickly and Carmilla felt more at ease with the old woman than she had formerly anticipated. She didn’t think she would have minded rooming with the old broad. At least her rambling didn’t annoy her to hell and back.

Soon after, Carmilla escorted Sister Gertrude to the evening Vespers at seventeen forty-five and again sat with Sister Hollis, listening and following along. She found if she daydreamed she would get a sharp prod in the side from her roommate-which of course annoyed her even if it was her fault for getting distracted. Once the Vesper service was concluded some of the Sisters went out into the small gathered congregation to greet familiar faces. Carmilla hung back in an adjacent hallway until Sister Mary-Anne passed by on her way to the evening meal. She was invited along and chose to follow rather than stay and wait for either Sister Gertrude or Sister Hollis. It wouldn’t have mattered since the Sisters waited for everyone to arrive before sharing a prayer and collecting their meal of beef goulash and toasted bread. But Carmilla surprisingly didn’t mind the wait. Against her original and comical memory of Sister Mary-Anne, the woman was in fact quite intelligent and Carmilla had a nice discussion about helping out in the Abbey Library when needed. Through out the entire meal she had felt eyes on the side of her head, but whenever she looked no one was watching her.

The Sisters gathered one last time for  _ Compline _ , final prayers, a quiet and reserved affair at twenty hundred hours. As the prayers concluded the Sisters left in silence, observing their evening quiet time. Carmilla and Sister Hollis retreated to their rooms after stopping by the cafeteria for a quick cup of herbal tea with honey. The warmth of the drink soothed Carmilla’s throat and felt wonderful as it seeped into her aching hands. She was moving a bit slower by the time they had climbed the stairs to their living quarters, sore from the morning’s physical activity and running a full day on very little sleep. Noticing this, Sister Hollis had her go shower in the communal bathroom and then gently led her through some basic stretches and yoga poses to loosen the stiffness in her muscles. When she did have to speak, the Sister spoke in the quietest whisper which forced Carmilla to strain to hear at some points. When the stretching was done, Carmilla wearily climbed into her bed and settled in with one of the theology books she had been allowed to check out that afternoon.

It wasn’t long before she felt herself nodding off-and must have at one point when her book was carefully lifted off her chest and placed on her side of the bedside table. She figured Sister Hollis must have gone to shower because the faint clean smell of rosemary and soap washed over her for just a moment before she allowed herself to finally fall asleep.


	3. The Apple Tree: Part Three - Fall of 1991

The rest of Carmilla’s first week at the Abbey was long and hard and  _ boy _ was she exhausted to the point where even the brutally strong coffee in the morning wasn’t enough to keep her waspish comments in check. This of course grated against Sister Hollis’s nerves and led to her own short comments however as strained and as reserved as she could manage. When the Mother Superior had hinted that Sister Hollis had been abrasive like her, she hadn’t realized how close she had actually meant. It made it easy for Carmilla to push her buttons when she was feeling particularly snippy in an attempt to make herself feel better. One particular snap from her that first Friday finally led to the Sister scolding her like a child.

“ _ If you don’t like how I’m showing you to do it then I would be happy to allow you to figure it out on your own.” _

True to her stubborn yet lazy nature, Carmilla did the job quickly and sloppily just to get it over with, leaving the frustrated Sister to completely start over the task after banishing her to sweeping the courtyard.

Not all of her days were that bad, but that long week plus a frustrating and confusing first Sunday for Carmilla at the Abbey led into a long and weary month of September. Their animosity towards the other festered into petty snips that Sister Hollis immediately would push herself into prayer and forgiveness for. This of course simultaneously annoyed and made Carmilla feel guilty for disrupting and trying the Sister’s hard-learned customs and habits, but only for a short time before something else set off her nerves.

Carmilla figured it was because she had been first cooped up at her parent’s large family Estate for months before being transferred to the Abbey and cooped up there as well. And on a more personal note, to go from a life of enjoying herself to a celebate lifestyle was… jarring. Her feet itched to walk outside the Abbey gates even if it was just to the school down the street and back. She missed her free reign and she missed being able to go where she pleased whenever she pleased-even to find a quiet space. Carmilla relished the mornings or afternoons where she was allowed two or three hours to read and study. She would squirrel away with her new borrowed library book and search for a quiet and secluded space to curl up in.

Her current favorite spot was a third-floor corner that overlooked the large herb garden. An unused room that wasn’t blocked from use and mostly clean, cluttered with older furniture and an aging woven rug. She had pulled an old winged armchair and small simple side table up to the wide window close to the far corner of the room. It was quiet and smelled like dust and cool stone. From her hilltop view she could see the grey road snaking alongside the river that encircled the rise of land they were on. When the book failed her or she got particularly confused about a passage, Carmilla would stare out unseeingly at the water and remember the night that had put her there in the first place.

It was in the middle of October on a cool, crisp grey afternoon when Sister Hollis found her in her corner, her stony face turned towards the waters far below. It had been a bad day, creeping up on the anniversary of her plunge, and her nerves were feeling scrubbed raw. Without a word she sat next to the Countess at a respectable distance and listened as Carmilla described that night to her in bare bone facts, opening up without even having to be asked. Not once did her voice break nor betray any emotion, or did her eyes leave the winding river below, but it felt good to finally release some of the ilk and in a way that wasn’t destructive to herself or others. It was something she wasn’t used to. Finally, Carmilla blinked away from the river, closed her book, and met the Sister’s surprisingly understanding gaze. There wasn’t an ounce of pity. The crushing weight of how she had taken her frustration out on Sister Hollis made her feel sick to her stomach.

“I’m not… this isn’t an excuse to how I’ve been acting towards you. I’m really kind of a shi-uh… obstinate… person. Sometimes. Um. Sorry.”

Sister Hollis breathed deeply and held it for a long moment, then released it in a slow sigh. “Thank you, Miss Karnstein. I accept your apology. You’re a product of your environment. Just like I am of mine.”

Carmilla half-shrugged in agreement. Sister Hollis tapped her fingers on the windowsill and sucked on her teeth in thought, her brow wrinkled. The Countess couldn’t help but think that maybe  _ just maybe _ they really could be friends. She remembered the Mother Superior saying that Sister Hollis echoed her temperament and it made her wonder just how she meant by that-because if anything, she was a lazy bum and Sister Hollis was diligent and active-much more so than Carmilla ever was. She was about to bring it up when the Sister began to speak.

“In my personal experience, it has been healthy of me to face things that have caused me trauma.”

The suggestion blind-sided Carmilla and she stood frozen as she recalled the terrifying weightlessness right before she hit the river surface.

“I think I’m doing just fine, thank you.” She clipped and abruptly stood, brushing past the Sister.

In reality she really wasn’t, but Carmilla had always been rather good at running away from her problems. She had been doing so for years. She had hoped that the other woman had decided to let her go but her mood dropped when she heard her follow. She hadn’t gotten but a few steps when a soft warm hand caught the inside of her left elbow and carefully tugged her to a stop.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

It was the tone in Sister Hollis’s voice that made tears suddenly well up in the base of her throat, and it was the secure comfort in her touch that made them spill over. For the next hour they stayed in Carmilla’s small corner over looking the river while Sister Hollis whispered soothing reassurances and held her carefully about the shoulders. Carmilla went to evening vespers feeling a little bit better than before; and for once since the beginning of her stay, she looked forward to spending time with the Sisters-even if it was in prayer that she didn’t care for. Sister Gertrude had toddled up afterwards with her cane waving about and patted Carmilla on the shoulder.

“Remember to let those tears out from time to time dearie, it helps flush out the bad.”

There was a change between Sister Hollis and Carmilla that day and while they were going through their evening stretches and yoga, she whispered that she wanted to see the river sometime.

* * *

A snowy Saturday in November was just that trip.

The Mother Superior had authorized Sister Hollis to accompany Carmilla on a half-day trip into town to the local drugstore for supplies. They hadn’t needed much so instead of borrowing the Abbey’s beat up blue pickup truck they donned their heavy leggings and coats, bundled themselves up to their ears in heavy wool scarves, and set out on an afternoon trek down the road. Sister Hollis wore a brightly patterned neon backpack that had been gifted to the abbey as their bag to carry their supplies back in. She laughed and crunched along with her mittened hands swinging at her sides. In that moment Carmilla really saw her age, just as young as she was and carefree as she blinked snowflakes from her lashes. It gave her a sense of kinship and Carmilla caught herself thinking the other woman was quite adorable with her rosy cheeks and snow-dusted habit.

It took them close to half an hour to walk down the long incline and across the small town to the drugstore on the main road. There were people out and about, mostly young families enjoying the winter weather with children too young to attend school yet. Sister Hollis was greeted by a few and in turn they politely greeted Carmilla as well. If they knew who she was they didn’t say and for that she was grateful. Once they reached their destination they huddled under the store’s awning and took a moment to shake out their skirts and stamp the snow out of their boots.

Entering the drugstore was a mild culture shock for Carmilla who had been in the Abbey since the third week of August. The bell on the door jangled jarringly and for the first time that fall she felt proper indoor heating. She spent her time perusing the shelves of brightly colored medicines and other personal needs while Sister Hollis picked up their required purchase from the front register. It only took a few minutes before her name was called and she reluctantly went back out into the cold, tugging her scarf up high to her nose before the door closed behind her with another jarring jangle of metal bells. She looked back at the mass produced chocolate bars with longing through the frosty glass one more time. Sister Hollis turned to her on the sidewalk and Carmilla studied her gentle expression.

“Would you like to go down to the river?”

Carmilla paused and watched the soft snowflakes settle on Sister Hollis’s veil.

“We can just walk to it and stay on the side of the road, no further.”

That was close enough. Carmilla nodded. “No further.”

Sister Hollis smiled encouragingly and led them down the street past giggly toddlers and a couple fluffy dogs with lolling pink tongues. Their boots crunched in the snow and their breath fogged in the air around their faces. The world was quiet and muffled and it made them feel small, but not alone. Carmilla shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her heavy skirts and clamped her arms to her sides. A kernel of warmth blossomed in her chest when Sister Hollis wormed her hand in between Carmilla’s side and elbow after nearly slipping on some hidden ice, their shoulders pressed together and hips bumping. She wondered if this was what a real friendship felt like for once. The Sister still grated on her nerves and it was a bit annoying that she was enjoying her company more and more-mainly because she hadn’t ever really experienced it before. And for once she knew it wasn’t infatuation because she felt the same kinship with the elderly yet robust Sister Gertrude. It made her feel like a real person.

While Carmilla was learning to enjoy their company, she was also cursing it. She was only there temporarily and she was actually dreading becoming attached to them. Of course, she could always send them mail and visit, but it wasn’t the same. She had begun to really enjoy what she figured was friendship for the first time in years, and being ripped away from it in a few more years wasn’t appealing in the slightest. She wanted to be selfish and keep the positive relationships she was finally forming. Carmilla listened quietly as the Sister chattered on about the little town’s history and it’s residents as they traipsed on through the snow, filing away important information just because she wanted to. This was one of those moments when she didn’t want to take the Sister by the shoulders and just yell at her to shut up for once. When the situation was calm, Carmilla wanted to relish that.

The two women stumbled on, falling quieter and quieter until it was Carmilla grasping silently at Sister Hollis’s arm. She was more frustrated than anything that she was acting like this, but they did just as the Sister said they would. They came to a halt high up on the sidewalk overlooking the slow moving grey waters. Far enough away that Carmilla couldn’t really see the rolling eddies along the shore, but close enough to hear it burbling. Next to Sister Hollis she felt safe, and for the first time since her wreck Carmilla’s anxiety began to fall to the back of her mind. Just seeing the water was enough for her to recognize that yes-it did happen, and yes-she was safe. If it weren’t so cold she might’ve gotten just a bit closer but Sister Hollis was starting to angle her body back towards the street. Carmilla found her bright golden brown eyes quickly but couldn’t say the words to say thank you, her throat constricted with the unfamiliar feeling of anxious relief.

“I can talk to Mother Superior if you would like to continue coming back.”

Carmilla swallowed roughly and blinked back the surprise of tears.

“Yeah… I would like that very much.”

* * *

November dragged on into the very beginning of December and with it, heralding the Christmas season and the stress of the work to prepare for it.

By the end of November the grounds were steeped in snow and Carmilla would steal away periodically to a restroom or the kitchen to run her hands under warm water. She had been given heavier clothing and all of the Sisters were bundled head to toe under their habits. The warmest level was the sub basement and they all tended to spend their free time in the cafeteria with simple cups of tea and their studies. There had been a change in temperament between Carmilla and Sister Hollis since visiting the river. The other woman still bugged her to no end on some days, and  _ some days _ she just wouldn’t  _ shut the hell up _ … but she managed. And with her strong pun game in her favor, just that morning she had made a sneaky jab at Sister Hollis hiding nun-chucks under her habit after she learned the woman had learned Krav Maga growing up, the playful banter was in full swing. Sometimes they even drew Sister Gertrude and some of the more feisty Sisters into their banter of light hearted snark, but they could only afford to do that when there wasn’t any pressing business. For the first time ever, Carmilla had friends that weren’t solely her friends because of her status. She wasn’t ready to tell them that yet, but every day the lonely ache in her heart that had been eating away at her began to very slowly subside.

Advent was in full swing on the first Sunday in December and the Sisters were busy preparing. Lessons took a detour into more hopeful theologies and passages, bright joyous hymns were being sung, the choir gave a stunning winter performance and the Sanctuary was packed. The little Abbey store was frequented by towns people and tourists in earnest and Abbey tours were filled, an activity that Carmilla had been tagging along on and enjoying immensely as she learned more and more about her new home. Wreathes and garland were tied up with beautiful red bows and a single simple Christmas tree donated by a local farmer stood proudly in the Church entrance where gifts to the poor were left, and everything smelled of pine and spice. There was a noticeable and contagious lift in the Sister’s moods and Carmilla couldn’t help but be swept up in the reverence they displayed, even if it was superficial for her.

There was but one Sister who wasn’t as bright as the others, and it was more visible to Carmilla the closer they drew to Christmas.

Sister Hollis, despite her bright and upbeat nature, had grown more subdued and serious. She still joked with Carmilla and led their studies as usual, but she was noticeably quiet and more and more frequently Carmilla would see her zoning out over her nighttime readings. She started spending more time in prayer and meditation in their free time and it left Carmilla feeling a discouraging mix of worry and frustration. But she had noticed the other Sisters were gentler with her as well. Dialing up the compassion to a dizzying degree, but never with pity and never as if Sister Hollis was made of glass. Finally, the week before Christmas, Sister Hollis stopped speaking and fell heavily into her prayers. That was the final straw for Carmilla, and not only was she confused about how quiet the other woman was, but also by how much she seemed to care. Carmilla Karnstein rarely let new people deeply into her heart, and to do so for this Sister so quickly scared her a bit.

It was mid-morning four days before Christmas and Carmilla found herself brusquely making her way towards the café. She had made an excuse to duck out of her studies for a few minutes so she could find Sister Gertrude. She had heard that the cold made the elderly Sister’s joints ache terribly and spent the coldest days sequestered away in the basement with a book. It was frozen days like these that made Carmilla happy she still had her heavy combat boots. She stamped down the last flight of stairs with her arms clamped tightly around her ribs in an attempt to keep herself from shivering apart. The sublevel hallway was noticeably warmer and Carmilla was tempted to bring back some tea to her class, but it would most likely earn her a disapproving look for making a longer than usual detour.

A warm light poured out of the café and Carmilla peeked in, relief settling in her chest when she spotted Sister Gertrude in the far corner where it was presumably the warmest. She briefly realized she hadn’t thought of a backup plan and was happy the older Sister was present. There were also a few of the older Sisters clustered at the table with her and they were all enjoying a quiet discussion. Her resolve balked just a bit, but she swallowed it down and strode purposefully but not aggressively to the little old ladies. They all looked up and kind smiles wreathed their weathered faces.

“Miss Karnstein! What a pleasant surprise!” One chirped.

“Are you here to join us child-?”

“Would you like a cup of tea-?”

The harmless rapid-fire questions held her up for just a moment as she processed them all, but quickly re-centered herself. “…actually, I was hoping I could speak to Sister Gertrude?”

The old ladies tittered worriedly and Sister Gertrude patted the empty seat next to her. “I think I know what this is about, come here child- _ no no no stay _ , it’s nothing bad.” She flapped her hands at the other Sisters who acted like they were getting ready to get up.

Carmilla frowned slightly and slid into the folding chair. The Sisters tittered just a moment longer before returning to their studies, softly discussing the semantics of some of the greek language behind the stories of the wise men.

“You’re here about Sister Hollis, aren’t you?” Sister Gertrude asked matter-of-factly, taking a noisy slurp of her steaming tea.

“…yes.” Carmilla confirmed, knotting her gloved fingers together in her lap.

“I almost expected you not to ask.” She winked over the lip of her mug.

“Kinda hard to miss considering how she likes to talk.” Carmilla answered dryly, her brow arching.

Sister Gertrude cackled into her tea and set her mug down. “Sister Hollis is a chatty little thing isn’t she! But unfortunately there’s a terrible reason for her temporary vow of silence. Has she ever told you how she came to be with us?”

Carmilla shook her head. Sister Gertrude’s face settled into a somber expression, one that she had never seen the Sister wear and grew uncomfortable.

“…well then. I don’t think she would mind if I told you the short version of her story, and I hate to be the bearer of such a reveal. Sister Hollis came to live with us here at the Abbey when she was barely sixteen. Full of life and a fiery need for justice to prevail! A young child trying to carry the weight of the world on her slim shoulders.” A wash of an old sadness pulled at the corners of her drooping mouth.

“Sister Hollis came to us when she had no one on the earth to turn to. Her parents died in a terrible accident, and there were no distant relatives that had any desire to take her in. Her family had very little money and the prospects of further education seemed rather slim. She’s very bright and I’m not sure exactly who suggested she come to us, and I’m still not sure if this is what she really wants, but here she is and we do love her dearly. Her silence is her way of dealing with the need to lash out.”

Carmilla was silent for a moment, a lot of her thoughts about who Sister Hollis was as a person making far more sense. It wasn’t at all what she was expecting, but in some sad twisted way it made sense to her.

“She feels like she failed and she’s just… helpless. Abandoned.” She whispered, more to herself than anyone.

Sister Gertrude nodded. “I feel like you understand her the most out of all of us, Miss Karnstein. Maybe because you’re so young, but Sister Hollis is rather fond of you.”

Carmilla’s eyes dropped to her hands on the tabletop, guilt roiling hotly in her throat. “I haven’t always been kind to her.”

“Of course not! But really-my child. You’re both rather abrasive in nature.” The elderly Sister gave her  _ a look _ that meant  _ for heavens sake stop going for each other’s throat over every little disagreement _ .

Carmilla flushed in embarrassment and nodded, feeling a bit small.

“Just speak to her. Clear the air. All will be well with time.”

And just like that the conversation was over and veering back towards a discussion about the shepherds in the fields and their significance to the nativity and beyond. Carmilla thanked Sister Gertrude and practically sprinted back to the Library, citing a lack of toilet paper incident. It was a thinly veiled lie, but the Sisters in the stacks let the sleeping dog lie. The sad tale of Sister Hollis weighed heavily on her conscious for the rest of the day and pushed her to be a bit nicer to the woman. She didn’t know if Sister Hollis noticed the subtle change in her behavior, but if it meant less grief for her during a stressful time of the year then Carmilla would oblige.

* * *

The evening before Christmas eve Carmilla and Sister Hollis were finishing their yoga stretching on the floor of their tiny shared room. Since Carmilla had started the light exercising that fall, she found herself implementing the breathing exercises when she was most stressed. She had begun to feel physically stronger and surer in her steps, and she was sleeping a lot better. Also her spine felt absolutely  _ fantastic _ now that she had fixed her posture a bit. She hadn’t realized how cranky a slumped back had made her feel.

Carmilla exhaled slowly and cracked her eyes open. Sister Hollis was cross-legged on the floor next to her, the backs of her wrists resting on her nightgown covered knees. She looked older than her age, her shoulders rigid and her brow slowly pulling into a deep frown. At this rate she’d never get to a state of mindfulness tonight and it was already past eleven. Carmilla debated for a long moment about what to do. After a nearly painful moment of silence and hesitation, Carmilla scooted around behind the other woman, making sure not to get too close if it made her feel uncomfortable. She raised her hands and paused, hovering over the backs of her shoulders.

_ “Is it alright if I… try to help?” _ She asked quietly, barely above a whisper.

For a long moment Carmilla didn’t know if Sister Hollis had heard her, but then came the softest nod of acceptance and she swallowed nervously. With a delicate touch, she gathered and settled the Sister’s long honey brown hair over her shoulder and pressed her hands into the tops of her shoulders. Carefully, she started to gradually work the stress-stiffened muscles in the soft space between Sister Hollis’s spine and shoulder blades with her thumbs. Carmilla slowly tried to coax the stress from her body, working her thumbs into the tissue around her shoulders and then gently up the back of her neck to the base of her skull. She lost track of time, but after a while she noticed that the Sister was noticeably slouching and her hands hung limp from her knees. After running her hands one last time over the tired Sister’s shoulders in a friendly gesture she copied from Sister Gertrude, she let her hands linger for just a moment on her back. Without warning, Sister Hollis leaned back and practically into Carmilla’s lap, a tired weary sigh escaping her chest as the back of her neck fit onto Carmilla’s shoulder.

Carmilla awkwardly let her hands hover for a moment in bewilderment by her sides until she figured resting them back on Sister Hollis’s shoulders was safest. She hadn’t been in such close contact with anyone so casually since… well. Intimacy. It was weird and not entirely un-enjoyable.

“ _ So. You know why I’ve been silent.” _

__

Carmilla only nodded and offered a soft squeeze from her hands in understanding before risking in a gently teasing tone. “ _ You never know when to be quiet so of course I knew something wasn’t quite right.” _

Carmilla felt her quick laugh more than saw the weak smile and was glad she hadn’t completely miss-stepped. That would have sucked  _ major _ ass if she had.

“ _ Do you wanna talk about it?” _ She ventured after another pause.

Sister Hollis was silent for another moment and Carmilla could only tell she was awake by the breathing she felt against her chest.

“ _ I’m from here. It was snowing and they lost control. The funerals and estate settlements and lawyer payments took a chunk of what I was left. Enough to live on, but barely. I was too young to live on my own, I didn’t have anyone else, and felt the Abbey was an easy out. It was where we came for special services and I knew some of the Sisters but only in passing.” _

__

Carmilla waited patiently, afraid that if she spoke Sister Hollis would retreat back into her deflector shields.

“ _ Of course it wasn’t easy, but it was better than being alone. Both of my parents had been religious, so all-in-all it felt like I was moving to a permanent Sunday school. It helped me feel closer to them.” _

__

Carmilla sighed, understanding the feeling of an ultimatum. Definitely not to the degree that Sister Hollis had, but she could  _ definitely _ relate. Just like Mother Superior and Sister Gertrude had said. Normally Carmilla hated being compared to others.  _ Especially _ about people she thought she was the direct opposite of. But for some strange reason, she wasn’t bothered this time. They may have had different backgrounds, but their tragedies were similar. It was easy to relate to trauma. Carmilla squeezed Sister Hollis’s shoulders one more time.

_ “I’m sorry.” _


	4. The Apple Tree: Part Four - 1992, Through the Summer

Christmas day passed in a flurry of joyous carols, opening the Abbey to the poor and homeless for a meal and warmth, distributing gifts to the children in need, and a short reprieve in their studies and quiet hours. One little boy from the local foster care program had found Carmilla and decided that she was his surrogate caretaker for the entirety of his visit. She never had a choice in the matter, he simply went right up to her and raised his arms to be held. Carmilla wasn’t really that big on the idea of children, or having any of her own, but there was a quiet understanding in his deep brown eyes that that had her immediately reaching to pick him up.

In a space where she didn’t have to hide behind emotional walls or her status, she felt drawn to let the boy cuddle into her shoulder and politely point to wherever he wanted to go. She didn’t think she would ever forget the way his warm little hand fit into hers or the way his fingers curled around her first knuckle, or the way his head fit perfectly into the curve of her neck. When it was time for him to go and his skinny arms wrapped around her neck, Carmilla promised that she would visit him the following Saturday-and she did, with the Mother Superior’s permission. In fact it became a new habit, and so on Saturdays she and Sister Hollis would take the bouncy blue pickup truck that belonged to the Abbey to the Foster Care home on Saturday afternoons. They would play and teach basic reading and arithmetics to fill the time and give some of the caretakers a short break. Carmilla almost always had that same little boy in her lap. She was glad for the time away from the Abbey  _ and _ because it was based in education. Something she was comfortable with and an atmosphere she thrived in.

January was colder than December and brought even more snow.

The Sisters who were able bodied took turns sweeping and shoveling the walks when it was needed. Carmilla had a spectacular ten-second fall one particularly icy morning when it was she and Sister Hollis’s turn. Her heart had gotten lodged in her throat aand she spat  _ shitfuckshit _ as her feet skated about underneath her, arms flailing in an attempt to use the extra weight of the shovel to regain her balance. Of course, it didn’t work, and she found herself face-down with a nose and mouth full of snow in a drift with Sister Hollis’s bright laughter echoing in her ears. Carmilla true to her nature, pouted and bit back another entire slew of curses and sulked for about half an hour until it was Sister Hollis’s turn to take a spill. Her own revenge laughter was met with a fistful of powdery snow that of  _ course _ led to a rather competitive and vicious snowball fight. She hadn’t felt so young in years and they lost a good twenty minutes acting far younger than their age. It came to an abrupt and awkward halt when a stern throat clearing from the Mother Superior broke through their breathless laughter. Sister Hollis was sent inside at that point to resume her studies and it was up to Carmilla to finish shoveling the last walk all by herself. She was allowed to change into warm dry clothes once finished, but grew sore from the physical work as the day went on.

February was even colder than January and Carmilla felt like she was truly frozen to her core at this point. Maybe it was the drafty sections in the Abbey or it was colder in the countryside, but she couldn’t remember being this chilled to the bone. The endless numbness made her fingers stiff and clumsy and her thin frame shook with shivers every time she went outside. To help her keep her mind off of the cold and to get a handle on the stress of being cooped up, Sister Hollis began teaching Carmilla more specific meditation techniques and more difficult yoga.

When Carmilla asked how she knew so much about the “ _ hippy exercise” _ as Sister Gertrude called it, she sat her down and told Carmilla how her mother had helped teach at a studio that focused mainly on jazzercise and aerobics, but had also helped with a group of elderly men and women from the small Asian community in Salzburg-which is where she then learned Sister Hollis was from. She told her that her mother would take her on Saturday mornings for yoga and Sunday afternoons for tai chi to help her get some of her  _ bratty energy _ out. Sister Hollis had confessed that she had not been a kind child, a terrible attitude and extremely selfish. She told Carmilla she still struggled with those attitudes, but losing her parents and her previous life had put a lot of things into perspective for her. So instead of dwelling and festering in the hurt, with help from the Sisters she was able to learn to live and work around her grief. The old yoga and meditation lessons with her mother were invaluable to her now. It made Carmilla determined to try.

Carmilla was able to halt her train of thought to a crawl after a few weeks of daily practice. Focusing on her breathing and the stretch and pull in her muscles kept her from continually snapping waspishly at her roommate, something Sister Hollis would never tell her she was glad about. But Carmilla could tell. She was slowly learning how to read her expressions and the tells for tension were stark to her now. The other woman had become more open and more willing to strike up a personal conversation than that previous fall and in turn Carmilla did as well. She began trusting the Sister with information about her own life-still vague enough that if something were to happen-which by this point Carmilla doubted Sister Hollis would say anything. She told her about her brothers Will and JP and her relationship with them. When asked about her parents all she said in reply before falling into her meditation was  _ I’m jealous of what you had with yours _ . Sister Hollis didn’t press her on the matter, and for that Carmilla was grateful.

March rolled around and while it was still bitterly cold, the Sisters were hard at work again. This time is was for bringing their large medicinal herb garden back to life and checking on the bees while preparing for the coming of Easter through Lent. Wednesdays became busier with special services at noon and in the evenings, the Sister’s moods falling somber as they neared Good Friday. Carmilla didn’t really remember participating in Lenten services growing up, so to be thrown into an Abbey full of sad religious Sisters was more than a bit disheartening. It didn’t help that many of the Sisters had taken vows of Silence outside of their prayers and services. The Abbey was much quieter and Carmilla began cherishing the conversations she had with Sister Hollis-who had (in Carmilla’s opinion) bravely given up coffee and tea and anything sweet. When she asked the Sister why she didn’t take a vow of Silence as well, she was told that  _ it’s so I can make up for being unable to welcome his birth with the joy and reverence he deserves _ .

A week before Holy Week, Carmilla was allowed to accompany Sister Hollis into town to confirm with the local florist the lilies and other arrangements they would need for Easter Sunday. The sun was weakly shining and the chill in the air was beginning to dissipate. The earth smelled fresh and new as the vegetation prepared to come out of it’s slumber. They had a few minutes after meeting with the florist so Sister Hollis and Carmilla walked to the banks of the river. Sister Hollis checked the simple plastic watch on her wrist and found a park bench, patting the seat next to her.

“Come sit with me, Carmilla.”

She did as she was asked right away, crossing her right leg over her left knee, bringing her new simple black shoes into sight.

“What’s up?”

Sister Hollis stretched her legs out comfortably in front of her and loosely linked her fingers together in her lap.

“I just wanted to check on you. You’ve been with us for seven months now.”

Carmilla  _ hmm _ ’d softly and crossed her arms over her stomach, turning her body slightly towards her companion. She was far more comfortable now than she had been in… well, since maybe childhood before she knew any better.

“Well… I’m glad to finally be getting some fresh air?” She joked with a crooked smile, one that Sister Hollis answered with a humored nod.

“But really. Up here.” Sister Hollis gently tapped the center of her forehead, just under the edge of her white headband.

Carmilla gave a small smile and shrugged. “Better. Not as angry. It’s calm here, but I mean… religion was never my first choice but I’ve… come to appreciate it?”

“Appreciate it for what it is, or the fact that we’ve been able to hide you from the public eye?” Sister Hollis asked bluntly as she skeptically raised a brow.

Carmilla laughed softly, ruefully agreeing but also confessing that she did enjoy the music.

“Have you thought about sitting in on one of the choir practices? I know you usually keep yourself busy in the library, but it’s always good to be open to different activities. It will help you keep from getting burned out.”

“I might. Let’s see how I feel after Easter I guess. I miss playing my bass.”

“You should aim for June or July. The Summer is usually more busy with tours and you could quite easily take a break and go listen with a group if the times line up.”

“…and if they don’t?”

“Then I’ll go sit and listen with you if you’re interested. Mother Superior should allow it. But only if you would like to. It’s just a suggestion.” Sister Hollis smiled matter-of-factly.

Seeing that she wasn’t going to have to make a decision today, Carmilla bowed her head slightly in acquiescence. She  _ did _ like music. Sister Hollis checked her watch again and sighed.

“Time to head back.” She groaned and stood, tucking her hands into the pockets of her heavy skirt.

Carmilla walked side by side with her back up the walk and onto the main drag, listening to the Sister’s rosary quietly rattle with every step at her side. They were back on the main sidewalk about a block from the old blue pickup when Carmilla heard them. A group of rowdy teens across the street from their truck, ones that reminded her of the crowd she used to hang out with. It brought memories rushing back of her old friends, her old life, what she used to enjoy and the stressors that came with it. It was a strange mix of longing nostalgia and a sudden spike in anxiety. Sister Hollis noticed the second her shoulders stiffened and put a gentle hand on the small of her back.

“Why don’t I drive?” She offered kindly, holding her hands out for the keys.

Carmilla shook her head and gave the Sister a steely look that said a million things. Sister Hollis’s mouth formed into a thin line and her brows furrowed in annoyance but turned quickly to a startled surprised when a loud  _ HEY! _ rang out from across the street. Carmilla’s heart rate spiked and adrenaline burned in her throat. She didn’t want a confrontation. She didn’t want to be  _ known _ right now, she just wanted to lay low and this person was threatening that. Carmilla gently guided the other woman to the passenger side door, her body rippling with barely contained energy as she turned to meet the quickly approaching footsteps. A tall lanky teen with tall spikes blue locks and a leather jacket thrown over ratty clothing clomped up to Carmilla, his hands loose by his sides.

“Whoa-my bad, my bad!” He threw his hands up in defense when Carmilla bristled on instinct. “I’m not tryin’ to start something. Promise.”

Carmilla didn’t let herself relax until she felt Sister Hollis’s hands curl gently around her waist and shoulder.

“Peace of Christ be with you, child. Can we help you?” She asked neutrally.

“I uh… I just wanted to say hey? Um…” He leaned closer in the most non-threatening manner he could. “ _ I’m Lucas, a fan, saw you play in Berlin two years ago. We’re glad you’re okay, Karnstein.” _ He whispered and then stepped back. “I’ll see you around!”

Carmilla felt her vision start to tunnel and nodded to the kid backing away, barely registering Sister Hollis guiding her into the passenger seat of the truck. She got lost in her thoughts and fears while thought she heard the Sister cross the street and invite the teens to the Abbey for service whenever they felt like it before she slid in behind the wheel. If they had recognized her then others had as well. Why hadn’t she been mobbed yet? She hadn’t played in her band since the wreck. She wasn’t being pestered? What…? Carmilla was jolted from her thoughts when the engine of the truck turned over. The ride back was uncomfortably silent to say in the least. Carmilla felt horribly guilty for being so quick to judge and fall into her old aggressive offensive behavior. She should have known better, she knew what the punk scene was like.

Carmilla jumped again when Sister Hollis pried her fingers from their rigid grasp on her skirts and laced their fingers together. Carmilla felt even worse when her grip tightened in a way that said she forgave her for her actions. Sister Hollis carefully drove them back up the hill to the Abbey while keeping Carmilla anchored. She parked them behind the groundskeeper’s shed and cut the engine but didn’t let go. Carmilla stared at their hands on her thigh, clasping so tightly together their knuckles were turning pale. Finally Sister Hollis spoke.

“Show me how to defend myself.”

Carmilla’s head snapped up and she stared at the calm Sister. “W-what?”

Sister Hollis smiled serenely. “I’ve taken a vow to never harm, but I want to know just in case the worst does happen and I need to protect you. The Lord will understand.“

Carmilla choked a strangled laugh and swallowed thickly to force herself to take a deep breath. She raised her right hand, barely shaking and formed a fist.

“Okay so… Dominant and hand thumb on the outside across your fingers-not inside because you might break it. When you do punch, make contact with your first two knuckles. Those are the strongest. Keep your wrist straight if you can. And since you’re short, use your weight. Step into it.”

Sister Hollis mimicked with her left. “Like this?”

“Yeah. And don’t punch them in the face, go for somewhere soft like their throat or their stomach… Personally it’s more satisfying to punch them in the face but there’s a  _ lot _ of bone there and you might break something. For you, aim for stunning so you can get away.”

“Speaking from experience then, Miss Karnstein?” Sister Hollis teased and Carmilla finally started to relax.

“Maybe.”

“Alright, well what if I don’t want to punch someone but still need to step in?” She let her fist loosen and drop back to her lap.

“Then slap them as hard as you can on the ear. Or strike up to their chin with the heel of your hand. You can also kick them in the shin.”

“What if I don’t want to raise my hands and feet in retaliation?”

“Then yell as loud as you can. Which shouldn’t be too hard for you- _ hey! _ ”

Sister Hollis laughed and withdrew her hand from where she had stuck her finger in Carmilla’s ear.

“Or I could just do that I suppose.”

Carmilla relaxed finally and let go of Sister Hollis’s hand. “Or you could stop them with a wet willie too no one’s telling you ya can’t, Sister Hollis.”

The Sister wrinkled her nose and opened her door with a heavy  _ clunk _ . “Come along, my punk knight in leather armor, we need to get back to our studies.”

Carmilla laughed and ignored the way her heart twanged at the new nickname.

* * *

Palm Sunday had Carmilla punished with extra sweeping after she built a jenga tower out of the small crosses made of the fronds. Holy week was a new somberness lingering on the Abbey, the last Lenten Wednesday evening vespers had a full sanctuary. Thursday held a single last supper vespers after the sun set with scripture taken from the gospels and the people in attendance given unleavened bread and a sip of communion wine. Friday dawned and the Sisters were grim faced throughout the day. It worried Carmilla so much that Sister Hollis-who was still the most upbeat of them all-pulled her aside and told her not to worry, that it would pass. There was a single service that evening as well, a young Friar carried in a naked wooden cross and draped it in a gauzy black cloth. As the service progressed grimmer and grimmer passages of scripture detailing Christ’s unfair trial, torture, and path to his death were read and candles and lights extinguished. The slamming of the Bible in the pitch black Sanctuary startled Carmilla but Sister Hollis was stiller than a stone at her side.

As they walked back to their quarters once all of the guests left, Sister Hollis linked their arms-a new closeness that Carmilla enjoyed.

“The sadness will pass with the promise of rebirth, Carmilla. Remember that even in the dark there is always a light.”

Saturday was a quiet day at the Abbey, but hope hummed in the air just as Sister Hollis had said. The worst was over and now the clock counted down to a bright resurgence. Carmilla helped the Sisters clean up the Abbey and the grounds to receive worshipers. The lilies that she and Sister Hollis had gone to confirm just a few weeks ago were delivered and used to decorate the Sanctuary. The naked alter and pulpits were decorated with beautifully simple white vestments and Sister Hollis made sure to walk her through the Easter Day schedule.

Their morning started off earlier than it normally did but the Sisters were already giddy and practically bounced as they brushed their teeth. Around five-thirty a small brass band in the back of a truck paused outside the Abbey gates and played a few Easter Hymns for them. The Sisters were waiting in the windows that faced the street with the sashes thrown wide and the chilly morning air ignored. Once the band was finished and drove on the Sisters made their way to  _ Lauds _ . Then the Sisters prepared for the main service that morning. The Sanctuary was full to the brim with townsfolk in their Sunday best. And at the very back of the church was the small group of teens who had greeted them just a few weeks ago. Carmilla raised a hand in welcome to them before the service started and felt safe in the fact that they had respected her enough to not blab about her. The service itself was bursting with joyous hymns and uplifting scripture about the resurrection of Christ. The naked wooden cross was adorned with a white cloth and links of flowers in the courtyard between the castle building and the church. The Sisters were back to their upbeat selves again and Carmilla was getting exhausted by it but just in the sense that they just didn’t seem to be slowing down. It made her feel a bit out of place again and she was glad when they returned to their normal services and schedule in April.

May was full of spring and gorgeous beds of flowers all over the Abbey. The impressive herb garden was resurrected and finally Carmilla could be trusted to roam the grounds. She took advantage of it by taking her readings to a quiet bench in the sun or just appreciating the new green growth as she made a few laps along the gravel and paved paths. Sister Hollis joined her when she was able and they enjoyed sharing more stories and in particular liked talking about foods they missed. The more Carmilla learned about her the harder she found it to not worry about what would happen after she left the Abbey. Sister Hollis had truly become her first trusted friend and she selfishly didn’t want to let her go. She promised to learn how to make chocolate chip cookies so she could send some back through the mail.

After one particularly trying Tuesday, Sister Hollis suggested they try some harder yoga.

“ _ Right, good now breathe-there you go.” _

Carmilla sucked in a breath and held it for a moment before forcing herself to breathe in a more regular pattern as she tried to ignore the shaking in her arms. Sister Hollis was teaching her the “crow” pose, one where she had her start in a squat then with her knees tucked tight against her torso rock forward until she was balanced on the heels her hands. It was easier for her if she tried to block out the Sister. They had both been at it for nearing an hour and in the warmer weather they were becoming sweaty disheveled messes. Carmilla kept getting distracted by the wisps of hair that fell loose from the other woman’s messy bun and how they stuck to her forehead and throat. Sister Hollis’s attractiveness was a feature she had always acknowledged, she wasn’t blind. After living next to her day in and day out, getting to know her for the person she was became a treat in itself.  _ Yes _ , she was still annoyed to no end on some days, but those were always backed up with good reasons. All comments and actions were thoroughly considered but Carmilla knew that her current behavior had been years of hard lessons learned and diligent practice to make the right decision. She had a lot of ground to make up in comparison.

However one behavioral habit that Sister Hollis seemed to be unable to shake was her rather… touchy one. Like the hand currently resting on the back of Carmilla’s shoulder and burning through her simple t-shirt. She knew it was meant to be steadying but that single point of contact was making the old restlessness wake up low in her belly again. And her whispering… Carmilla wished she would just stop talking all together. She was  _ trying _ to behave.

“ _ Good, now ease back down… and breathe. Return to Lotus.” _

Carmilla exhaled a littler shakier than usual and crossed her legs, resting the backs of her wrists on the tops of her knees. She had felt every millimeter of Sister Hollis’s hand as it slid off her back and her skin tingled in its wake. They sat in silence for a few moments and finished their meditation, but for Carmilla is was more about trying to calm the now-awake hormones in her body. Hormones she had been diligently forgetting about until  _ now _ . Sister Hollis finished her breathing exercises before Carmilla did and gathered up her shower caddy and towel, quietly making her way out of their room. As soon as her soft footsteps were out of earshot Carmilla groaned silently in frustration and let her head fall into her hands. If she didn’t get a hold of herself soon she would be completely and totally fucked without a happy ending in sight.

She wallowed in her self-pity for a moment until the stale stink of her sweat finally got to her. The next best thing she needed right now was a chilly shower if she could stomach it. And some different thoughts for distraction. Carmilla heaved herself to her feet and scooped up her own caddy and threw her nightgown and towel over her shoulder with a sigh. Most of the Sisters were still awake though she could faintly hear Sister Gertrude snoring as she stepped into the hall and padded barefoot to the communal bathroom. She could hear the faint hiss of a shower before she even pushed the door open and mentally braced herself. She just needed to get to her preferred stall without doing anything stupid. Sure. Simple as pie.

The heavy door creaked open and she slipped in, the steam from Sister Hollis’s shower fogging up the mirrors and making the bathroom hazy. Carmilla saw the last one was open and was on her way to it when the curtain to the other woman’s stall caught her eye-or rather the fact that there was a noticeable gap between the edge of it and the wall of the stall. Her heart leapt into her throat and she just  _ couldn’t _ tear her eyes away from that gap as she approached it. She tried to look away, she really  _ really _ did, but as she tried to pass her footsteps faltered and her long stamped-down cravings raced through her veins. Her back was to Carmilla, but  _ god _ she felt her knees threaten to buckle. Suds ran down the toned planes of her shoulders, followed the dip down her spine, swept off her flared hips. She looked so soft. Carmilla wanted to touch every inch of her skin.

She couldn’t look away. Her eyes kept tracking every trim line of her body and adrenaline jolted the beginnings of coals. Carmilla swallowed thickly and knew that her face and neck were even more flushed now. And there were so many freckles… she couldn’t count them all even from this small distance. Sister Hollis huffed a sigh and bent at the waist to rattle through her caddy in the corner of the stall and Carmilla nearly swallowed her tongue. But it was enough to break her from her trance and she escaped into the last stall as quietly as she could with fire racing in her bones and guilt a heavy stone in her chest.

That was her  _ friend _ .

The only one she had and she had just spied on her like a privacy-violating  _ idiot _ . Carmilla wondered if she could drown herself in the shower before having to face Sister Hollis about that  _ ever _ in her lifetime. She turned the knob as cold as it would go and stayed under the spray huffing and puffing against the chill until she heard the other shower turn off and the door creak closed. Carmilla knew it was bad when the chill did nothing to alleviate the heat between her legs.

She was  _ fucked _ .

* * *

For the next three days Carmilla was uncomfortable in more ways than one. She noticed Sister Hollis whenever she was in the room, noticed her body language, her quirks, paid extra attention to the way she laughed and the way she acted towards Carmilla. Her eyes followed the tilt of her chin or how her slender fingers delicately turned the page of a book.

_ Did she know? Did she see her when she bent over? Had she heard her stop? _

These questions looped endlessly in her head and it made the tempting coals deep in her belly urge her to find a dark corner and ignore the morality of the issue. Of course, it was also against Abbey rules to engage in pleasures of the body, so she really needed to figure out better ways to curb her energy. Carmilla took any physical task she could to try to wear herself out for an early bedtime. On Wednesday she swept the entirety of the walks by herself and helped in the herb garden. On Thursday she took to mopping the café floors and anywhere else that needed it. Then on Friday she helped with the laundry and dusting the light fixtures. Then when all of these tasks proved to be futile in the face of her growing annoyance she tried the hardest yoga poses she knew and added in pushups and sit-ups. The burn in her muscles was a good substitute for what she really wanted but it still didn’t quite cut it. She wondered if she should actually go to the confessional booth for once.

No, it was too embarrassing.

Friday evening seemed a bit easier for the first time in a while so Carmilla finally let herself have a warm shower for the first time since that previous Tuesday. She was still antsy and she had to change her posture for her bedtime reading because the heat  _ was _ still there… but she managed and was able to put herself to bed like a normal night. She laid there and sleepily listened to Sister Hollis turn some pages over the next ten minutes before carefully closing her book and setting it down on their bedside table. Carmilla could nearly see her even though she was on her side facing the wall. She knew how the other woman’s hair would be almost dry now, in long loose waves of honey and sweeping over her shoulder. She could see how the muscles in her neck barely strained from the effort of the reach and how the soft cotton nightgown pulled across her compact shoulders and breasts. She could see how her long lashes brushed her freckled cheeks and how she licked her lips after taking a final sip of water before laying down. The light flipped off and the room was plunged into the faintest moonlight. Carmilla listened to her settle into her bed and then sigh quietly-but it was more of a moan of comfort and that was the very last thing that she needed at that moment.

_ Fuck _ .

Carmilla was more than wide-awake now. That one soft sound sent her mind reeling unbidden back to that steamy bathroom. The heat between her legs jolted to life and she could feel the energy coiling in her hips and up her spine. Carmilla laid there with her eyes screwed shut as she willed her mind to think of anything but that, focusing on her breathing.

Raking the leaves and sore shoulders led to the flex and pull of toned muscles shifting under wet freckled skin.

Carrying the weight of a bin of pulled weeds on her hip led to her remembering the curve of the woman in the bed across the room and how she wanted to be wrapped up in her toned arms.

It was no use now, and Carmilla’s mind replayed the scene over and over and over and every time her friend  _ god, her friend _ bent over in front of her and that barest dusky pink was exposed… her heart leapt into her throat and she grew more aroused. Carmilla was quickly falling into the spiral and her hands itched to relieve the tension as quickly and quietly as she could. Would that fix her problem? In the long run, probably not. Probably most  _ definitely _ not, but in the short term it would be so good and  _ so _ satisfying. So she laid there and remembered, and it wasn’t until she started  _ imagining _ a few minutes later did she truly realize that she was in trouble.

She imagined dropping her caddy and towel and stripping quickly before sliding into the steaming stall. She imagined the startled exclamation she would get and she imagined kissing her, but Sister Hollis would kiss her back fiercely after a moment of surprise. She imagined how she would back her up into the seafoam green tile and push her thigh in between her legs. Carmilla imagined dropping to her knees, sputtering for a moment under the spray before lifting a toned thigh over her shoulder and using her fingers to spread her right before she licked deeply into-and  _ god she needed to either get up for a cold shower or do something _ .

By this point Carmilla was breathing as steadily and deeply as she could, listening carefully to her friend and companion across from her. She detected no sign of alertness and was glad for it because she realized that she had been squeezing her knees together to find a modicum of pressure. She swallowed thickly and rolled only her back as quietly as she could. Carmilla tried to steady herself but it was too late, she could feel the slickness in her underwear and she  _ ached _ . She waited a few minutes longer, trying to decide what to do but she couldn’t shake the last visual of Sister Hollis bending over.

Carmilla carefully worked the hem of her nightgown up with her right hand and paused, her fingers resting high on her thigh. She shifted and grasped at her blanket next to her hips with her left. She swallowed again and her fingers slipped underneath the hem of her modest underwear. Her fingertips brushed the edge of the soft hair and she hesitated again, listening to the steady breathing across the room.

Down her fingers slid until she was cupping herself and right then she knew what a mess she was in. A  _ slick _ mess. Carmilla bit her lip and pushed her middle finger down and into her heat, immediately coated with her arousal. Sparks flew behind her eyes as she rubbed slowly, carefully, and shifted her thighs apart to try to keep from making noise. She was so unbelievably turned on it surprised her a little bit. Her fingers moved up and gently circled her clit, trying to exhale as evenly as she could as her fingertips brushed over the raised bundle of nerves in repetitive staticky shocks of pleasure, the image of pink branded onto the back of her eyelids.

It felt  _ so good. _

So she let her fingertips pass over again, and then again, and again until her hand was cramping and her fingers were slipping and sliding across so rapidly that Carmilla knew she didn’t have much longer to hold on. She felt the telltale coil in her belly, starting deep and rushing towards her in a promise of pleasure that would leave her breathless. She was almost there-and then the  _ real _ Sister Hollis was upon her, deftly sliding her arm under Carmilla’s head and clamping her hand over her mouth while her other reached down and wrapped like a vice around her wrist through the blanket and pulled her away from herself.

Carmilla couldn’t help the quiet weak cry of frustration and the loss from getting pulled back from the edge so roughly. She had just needed a few more  _ seconds _ . Hot tears of shame and anger threatened to fall when she realized that she had been caught. Sister Hollis’s hands scorched her across her lips and around her wrist, hot like a brand as she held Carmilla fast. Carmilla could feel her arousal dying and the evidence drying on her fingers in the wake of her mortification and she wanted to cry. Her body was still wound tighter than a spring and she knew had only made her situation worse. Her chest constricted when Sister Hollis rested her cheek on Carmilla’s forehead and let her hand slide down to press flat against her sternum.

_ “I know-I know how hard it is but you can't. And I know you want to but they will hear and I don’t want you to jeopardize your time here at the Abbey. I can't let you do that to yourself, I can’t let you lose your second chance. Just… just hate me instead." _

__

Carmilla couldn’t stop the few tears that did fall.  _ “I can’t hate you. Don’t you fucking ask me to.” _

Sister Hollis held Carmilla for a few minutes while she regained her footing before whipping the covers off her and pulling her to her feet. Carmilla could barely see but she knew the Sister was troubled and she felt awful for putting her position here at risk, all because she literally could not stay out of her own pants. Her towel and a fresh change of clothing was gathered and Sister Hollis walked her to the bathroom. She was instructed to take as chilly a shower as she could handle and timed it for two minutes. Her unreadable expression made Carmilla imagine the worst scenarios and she did as she was told, just knowing that she’d be out of her and on her way to a less comfortable prison. She was led back to bed completely cowed and downtrodden, and slid in between the now cool covers in fresh bedclothes. Sister Hollis knelt next to the bed.

“ _ I’m sorry I had to do that, but as far as I’m concerned you had a bad dream and needed something to help shock you out of it.” _

Carmilla nodded slowly, understanding that the Sister was going to give her another chance even though she was breaking the rules of of rank by not informing the Mother Superior of her fuck up. The Sister smiled wearily and climbed back into her own bed, intent on getting some sleep.

Carmilla laid awake for hours.

* * *

The next two months were an absolute nightmare for Carmilla.

Well, that’s a bit dramatic, but it was uncomfortable in the least for many reasons. First, she was embarrassed that Sister Hollis had caught her. That spike of guilt was driven home the next day when the Sister said that she wasn’t bothered by her for being human, but she did need to try to make an effort to follow the rules of Celibacy because she didn’t know if she’d be able to protect her further.

Second, the denial of being able to reach release put her on edge and brought back some of that standoffish nature she had been working on. Carmilla was short, easily annoyed, and definitely starting to get emotionally exhausted. In an attempt to curb the aggression she threw herself into her tasks again, trying to tire herself out. Before she came to the Abbey she was a sloth and rightfully so, but the lifestyle here discouraged that and so with bitterness and spite she overachieved. Anger can make you do strange things.

That was just the tip of the iceberg. She tried to avoid Sister Hollis when she could. She started dodging her when it was time to shower before bed. She started turning her back when they changed clothes. She started pulling away from most physical contact and Carmilla knew the Sister could tell she was avoiding her. She could see that it was hurting the other woman but nothing was done to confront her and so it continued, but didn’t escalate. That wasn’t what Carmilla was trying to do. She wasn’t trying to make it worse. She just wanted to get through this but she still had over  _ two years _ left. The realization was sobering and seemed so far away. How would she manage her emotions? What would she even do when she got out?

Carmilla let herself wallow through most of July until she decided that as soon as she was free she would take her belongings and resources and move to Paris. She’d find a tiny little apartment above a bookstore like she had dreamt of and she would stay quiet and out of the eye of the public if possible. If she was lucky, she’d find someone she could fall in love with. But really, she just wanted to disappear, and the one thing she did like about the Abbey was that it afforded her some privacy. Not to the degree that she wanted, but it was definitely more than her previous mess of a life. That small rough idea of a plan helped ground her and Carmilla made that her main focus.

A small reprieve in the monotony of endless chores was she still helped down at the Foster home on Saturday afternoons. And then with approval from Mother Superior, she was allowed to help with the youngest summer classes at the local school if another Sister supervised her. The youngest children were impressionable little things with linear thoughts and no real concept of reasoning, and it was easy for Carmilla to be around them. There were no ulterior motives, they told her how it was, had the silliest senses of humor through their unburdened personalities, and even when brutally honest they were the wisest. She helped them with learning their letters and numbers, colored with them, played on the playground, and read to them. There was one little girl who loved to sing and every time she saw Carmilla she would get pulled into singing along to a horrendous mash up of Disney songs that had no end. Carmilla rarely sang at the Abbey so for the first couple visits her voice was pretty rough. The little girl had sternly told her to practice, so much to Carmilla’s own surprise she found herself attending the Abbey choir practices on Tuesday mornings. Being around the children helped soften the restlessness in her bones and the desire to lash out. She figured it was some sort of innate  _ womanly instinct _ , even if she hadn’t ever entertained the thought of having her own children. She was perfectly fine watching after someone else’s kid. She wouldn’t have thought that a year ago.

A scorching July rolled into an equally scorching August. By now with the help from all of her different activities and possible life plan Carmilla was starting to feel back to normal as she could. She was still a little distant towards Sister Hollis but at least she wasn’t actively lashing out at her any more. It was only until a particularly hot night in the middle of August that Carmilla finally initiated a more personal conversation.

“ _ I never apologized for putting you in such a dangerous and awkward situation, did I?” _ She whispered, not daring to look up from the floor.

They were seated in their lotus positions in the small space between their beds and the window was thrown wide to let in any hint of a breeze. Sister Hollis sighed and slouched.

“ _ No, but I accept it all the same.” _

Carmilla looked up and gave the woman a small smile, “ _ Still, I’m sorry. I selfishly put you in a position that jeopardized both of our places here.” _

Sister Hollis’s fingers twitched as if she wanted to reach out, but she didn’t.  _ “Thank you.” _

They sat awkwardly for a few more minutes before Carmilla spoke again.

_ “I know… this is going to sound really awkward, but… what did you mean you know?” _

Sister Hollis looked up in mild confusion, not understanding. Carmilla swallowed nervously and tried again, her cheeks flushing.

“ _ When you… stopped me. You said ‘I know’. What did you mean?” _

Pink blossomed on Sister Hollis’s cheeks and she quirked an eyebrow as her eyes dropped to the floor. She shrugged a bit and Carmilla saw the sadness and understanding seeping through.

“ _ I’m human too.” _

__

_ “Oh… did you leave a boyfriend behind or something?” _

__

Sister Hollis gave Carmilla a knowing look and uncrossed her legs to stand up.

“ _ No, not a boy.” _

The admission brought Carmilla up short and she sat like a bump on a log until Sister Hollis had settled herself in bed and began her nightly readings. She nodded to herself and rolled up onto her own bed, staring blankly at her page for a good five minutes before a whisper broke through her stupor.

“ _ Laura.” _

__

Carmilla looked over to the nervous Sister in confusion. She was obviously in distress, but she didn’t know why. Carmilla threw her book down on the bed and quickly crossed the room to hesitantly sit on the edge of Sister Hollis’s bed. She watched the woman fiddle with her book a moment longer before she sucked in a deep breath and looked up.

“ _ My first name is Laura.” _

That wasn’t what Carmilla was expecting at all, and knowing the ramifications of sharing your old name were still a bit lost to her-but if Sister Hollis’s behavior was anything to go off of… it wasn’t common at all. Probably against a stuffy rule or something. But what Carmilla did know was that not only had Sister Hollis come out to her in a show of solidarity and trust, but she had just trusted her with her name. It was stupid and brave and Carmilla’s attraction towards her that had been glacially growing started to bloom with warmth in her chest. Not how she had burned in her sheets in May, but different in a way that made her want to wrap her arms around her and shield her from the world. It was frightening.

Carmilla held out her hands and Sister Hollis immediately took them, squeezing tightly.

“ _ Laura. It’s nice to meet you.” _


	5. The Apple Tree: Part Five - Fall of 1992

That night in August was a turning point for Carmilla and Sister Hollis, and quite frankly it terrified them. They had connected in a personal way, and the Sister had shared a very private part of herself with Carmilla. That meant that she trusted her to keep silent on the matter. Carmilla didn’t know what-or if-there was a punishment for sharing a name you had given up, she assumed there was one by how nervous Sister Hollis had been, but she would never tell. Or perhaps it was of a more personal nature? A life that was gone, and a name was a leak in the dam. Carmilla had no idea how to approach it, so she just tried to play by Sister Hollis’s lead.

Carmilla’s anniversary at the Abbey was a regular old day with a meeting with Mother Superior, but nothing else out of the ordinary besides a few encouraging words from some of the other Sisters. She had adapted well to life at the Abbey, far better than any of them had expected  _ including _ herself, and she was told if she kept up the good behavior she’d be out on time. It was actually a pretty boring Wednesday spent completing her regular chores and readings.

Carmilla and Sister Hollis continued to dance around each other for a few more weeks until finally they started feeling comfortable again. It was almost a relief when Carmilla was able to keep herself from shying away from Sister Hollis-from  _ Laura _ -again. She still avoided her during shower time but she didn’t always turn her back when they changed anymore. It would take some time but Carmilla could tell that the minute changes definitely made Sister Hollis feel better too. Even if these feelings never went away, Carmilla knew that she would be truly poorer for losing this friendship.

September brought more responsibilities to Carmilla as she was gradually rotated into more roles to help keep life at the Abbey running smoothly. She started helping with meals, started helping with alter care and preparing for Sunday services, and was officially brought into the choir as a Soprano. She was doing well enough for the most part and glad to have more to do to keep herself from feeling like she was spinning in circles.

One Saturday afternoon as she and Sister Hollis were just getting back from their regular trip to the Foster home, they noticed a lone rental car parked in the lot across from the gate.

“We weren’t expecting any guests today were we?” the Sister asked.

Carmilla shook her head and nervousness boiled quickly in her belly. Sister Hollis noticed her immediate discomfort and scanned the road. There weren’t any oddly out of place figures or any cameras, so they figured it wasn’t some lone paparazzi. They were just barely inside the gate when a Sister who was weeding close by called to them. She instructed them to go see the Mother Superior and  _ of course _ they both assumed the worst. Once out of the weeding Sister’s line of vision they exchanged worried looks and picked up a quick clip. They quickly made their way into the main castle and hurried up the flights of steps without a word. As soon as they turned the corridor all anxiety left Carmilla in a rush and she broke into a jog, and then a sprint with her heart in her throat and tears prickling at her eyes. Pacing nervously outside the Mother Superior’s door was a very nervous JP while Will was perched on one of the benches with both of his knees jack hammering uncontrollably. When they heard her running towards them both of the boys startled and jumped in her direction. Carmilla crashed into JP’s chest with an  _ oomf _ and grunted again when Will sandwiched her in between them.

“Carmilla, you’re okay-“

“We missed you so much-“

“Mother has been the  _ worst- _ “

“Father hasn’t been around either so we thought-“

“We hadn’t seen you in over a year and-“

“God you  _ stupid idiot-“ _

__

Carmilla just laughed and hugged JP around the ribs tightly, holding on to one of Will’s hands as he wrapped around the both of them. They had grown just a little taller but definitely more broad in the past year, and JP was starting to look a bit like a hippy with a slow-growing beard and longer hair, but Will was as clean cut as ever. She screwed her eyes shut against her tears. For just a moment, it felt like something was being stitched back together in her chest.

“But how? Are you even allowed to be here?” She managed to say in a lull between their parroting.

The boys stepped apart but Will spun her around and pulled her into his own crushing hug. JP couldn’t resist either and made another Carmilla sandwich, leaving the woman to make an exasperated noise through a watery sniffle.

“They’re here because two weeks ago they called wanting to know how you were doing.”

Carmilla peeked over Will’s arm and saw an amused Mother Superior standing in her doorway with an equally amused and slightly confused Sister Hollis next to her with her hands deep in her pockets.

“Thank you.” Was all she could manage. Mother Superior nodded and informed her they had an hour before retreating back into her office.

The door closed with a click and Sister Hollis stepped a little closer.

“Miss Karnstein, are you going to introduce me?”

Carmilla blushed at Sister Hollis’s teasing tone and finally disentangled herself from the boys.

“Yeah-uh, guys? This is Sister Hollis, my roommate… and, uh, friend. She’s been keeping an eye on me to make sure I don’t screw up too badly.”

Sister Hollis laughed brightly and extended her hand. “You must be her younger brothers.”

“Jean Paul, please call me JP.” He took her hand and shook it jovially.

“Willam-and thank you for helping Carm. We’ve been really worried about her.”

Sister Hollis smiled warmly. “I can assure you she is quite safe here.” She checked her watch. “Oh-I have to leave! Miss Karnstein, you’ll miss vespers tonight but I’ll see you at the evening meal. It was wonderful meeting you two! Excuse me…”

Sister Hollis bustled on down the hall and Carmilla watched her go for just a second until Will stepped into her line of sight. She looked up and saw the worry etched into his face. Carmilla stepped back for a little space and  _ really _ looked at them. They looked exhausted in a way that wasn’t physical. Like how she had started to look when the relationship with her parents started to really fail. She frowned and linked their arms with hers.

“Come on, it looks like you could both use a cup of tea.”

“I guess you wouldn’t have any brandy lying around would you?”

Carmilla huffed a laugh at Will’s dry comment and shook her head. She led them down into the cafeteria, pointing out parts of the Abbey as they passed and spouting off bits of history that was more for JP’s entertainment than her and Will’s. They passed a few Sisters, and Sister Mary-Anne, who commented that they were the cutest peas in a pod. Carmilla led the boys into the kitchen and put the kettle on the stove. They were quiet for a few minutes as Will and JP watching her carefully while she got down mugs and teabags. She finally gave them a weird look when they wouldn’t stop watching her and pulled the honey and sugar from the pantry.

“What?”

JP opened his mouth a few times before Will began. “You look really good. Healthy. Definitely happier.”

JP shrugged crookedly. “Honestly? I made the mistake of finding out there’s a terrible problem in some convents with abuse and I am… relieved to find that you are well and not in a predicament I was imagining.”

Carmilla’s questioning stare softened after his fearful confession to her. She lit the stove and put the water on to boil, leaning an elbow on the counter.

“No, not at all. The worst thing that has happened to me has been extra sweeping or temporary silence. The women here are actually Religious Sisters, so they kind of… live as Nuns and follow the Benedictine law for a lowly life but still go out into the Community. It’s very strange and apparently they’re the only Abbey in Austria that works in this manor.” She waved her hand nonchalantly, slipping back into the bored-sounding tone she used to use to put them at ease.

The boys nodded in relief and the palpable tension in the air drastically decreased. Will hopped up on the counter and JP leaned next to him.

“So other than being cooped up here, how are you doing?” Will asked.

Carmilla shrugged. “It’s not so bad. Everyone is at the very least bearable, Fredrich has done a good job so far of keeping the paparazzi away from here, and I’m… making friends for once. The church still isn’t where I want to be, but I can appreciate it considering the circumstances.”

“What happened to that trash mouth of yours?” Will teased. Carmilla just scowled.

“Rules.”

“So normally your worldly possessions would be destroyed… I’m hoping they didn’t do that?”

“Oh no,” Carmilla shook her head in JP’s direction. “-the Mother Superior ensured my clothes would be stored safely.”

“Right so no bass to play, no cursing, no drinking, no sex… what do you even do for fun?”

Carmilla rolled her eyes good naturedly at Will and pulled the hissing kettle off the burner. “The Abbey actually has an extensive library and archive collection and while they aren’t my usual Philosophy reads, they’re a good substitute. Plus we’re busy with the upkeep of the Abbey, services, prayers  _ endless prayers _ …”

Will and JP accepted their mugs of steaming tea and doctored them to their liking while their older sister rambled on.

“-then I started with the choir this summer-because we help at the local school sometimes and there’s this little girl there who  _ always _ sings Disney songs and gets mad if I don’t sing along with her. Then Sister Hollis and I go to the Foster Home on Saturday afternoons and help there. Oh, and then Sister Hollis has actually been helping me a lot-“

“Yes, tell us about this dear Sister Hollis.” Will cut in with a smirk as they took a seat against the wall across from the door.

“It’s  _ not _ … It’s not like that.” She shifted uncomfortably in her wooden chair and fiddled with the handle of her mug.

They boys gave her suspicious looks and stayed quiet, giving her a rare chance to explain herself. Carmilla watched them for a tense moment.

“What, did you two become shrinks or something?”

“You two sound like you could be really close friends. We want to know about her if that’s alright.” JP said soothingly and patted her on the shoulder.

“Well-we _ are _ I guess. She uh… she’s the only other person besides you two to get under my skin and not get their throat ripped out in the process.”

Will made a  _ continue _ motion with his hand as he blew on his tea. Carmilla bowed her head and cradled her head in her hands.

“ _ I think I’m fucked. _ ” She whispered.

There was an unattractive  _ saloof _ from JP snorting his hot tea into his nose, which led to some equally unattractive spluttering and moans of  _ ow ow ow _ . Will pounded him on the back and quirked his brow that was almost identical to how Carmilla did.

“I suspected as much. So tell us about her.” He asked again, more gently this time with no hint of a smirk in sight.

Once Carmilla started she couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. She started with their first meeting and included Sister Gertrude, telling the boys how she had at first been taken and then immediately annoyed. She told them how that annoyance festered for a bit until they finally got used to being around each other, and how they had started opening up to each other. She told them  _ loosely _ that Sister Hollis had been through her own trauma and was using her own experience to help Carmilla with hers. She told them about if they had time while in town they’d go to the banks of the river, or if the weather was nice they’d walk down the path behind the Abbey to the slow eddys. She told them how Sister Hollis had been teaching her beginning yoga to help with her stress and anxiety. She told the how the woman didn’t much care for personal bubbles and it was weird and comforting to be hugged at any point in the day. She told them about how kind and understanding she was and that she literally had the patience of a Saint. She skipped over what happened in May. She also skipped over some of her stronger feelings.

“So… it sounds like you really like her then.” JP sipped at his tea.

“…I do. She’s a friend I’ve never had. Someone my age with similar opinions who doesn’t want to exploit me for my money.”

“Carm, it sounds like you  _ really _ like her.” Will repeated, his eyes searching her face. He had never,  _ never  _ seen his older sister talk so reverently about someone else before. He was elated and devastated for her all at the same time.

Carmilla smiled sadly. “Her life is here. We’re just friends.”

Just like that, the topic was dropped and their train of conversation moved on. This time it was Will and JP’s turn and they gladly filled her in on what they had been up to. It was mostly school, school, and more school as they finished their upper school and started on their degrees at a prestigious University in Vienna. Will told her about the beginning business accounting courses he was enrolled in while JP gave rough descriptions of his mechanical engineering courses. He was thinking of branching out into cyber studies as well, “ _ I hear that field is rapidly growing and writing code is a satisfying challenge” _ . Apparently Will had been thinking about joining a social club as well to which Carmilla advised him to only carry cash if he ever went out.

“And only enough for you because people will try to mooch off of you.”

That of course was met with an exasperated  _ Yes Mother I know _ and the he told her about a competitive rowing team he was training with. JP pipped up that his ultimate frisbee group was leading the local league. Carmilla enjoyed hearing about their activities. They had always gone out and done more than she had and she was perfectly content hearing about their adventures.

“Mother and Father aren’t doing so well though.”

Carmilla’s mouth formed into a thin line at JP’s quiet admission. She really didn’t want to talk about their parents but she could see that it weighed heavily upon the both of them. They had listened to her, it was her turn to listen to them.

“What’s happening?”

“Mother won’t leave the house, she just stays in and drinks all day talking about how her  _ glittering girl _ is gone and how the family name is shamed.”

“So no change, then.” She muttered bitterly.

JP frowned sadly at her and licked his lips. “The father, he… he’s not really home much anymore. He claims business but he comes home late at night smelling of alcohol and cheap sex.”

Carmilla laughed bitterly this time. “So he’s taking a leaf out of my book.”

“ _ Carm. _ ”

Will’s soft admonishment made her slouch low in her seat.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, staring into the dregs of her tea.

They sat silently for a minute before Will spoke up, a slightly wobble in his voice.

“Carmilla we were really scared. You were just… spiraling out of control and we couldn’t figure out how to help you. Just… the tabloids and… you were so  _ angry _ all the time. I was afraid we were going to lose you.” He ended on a whisper.

Carmilla reached across the small table and wiped a tear from his cheek. “You won’t lose me so easily now. I’m a vampire. Hard to kill.”

A watery laugh escaped Will’s chest and he sniffed obnoxiously. “I know. You  _ do _ look really good Carm.” He reached out and squeezed her bicep. “Okay uh, where did your noodle arms go?”

His exclamation broke the tense atmosphere and their conversation steered back to more lighthearted topics. JP was explaining a little robot he was planning on building when a voice cleared at the doorway. They looked up and Mother Superior was there. She looked apologetically towards Carmilla,

“Time to go. I’ll let you walk them out.”

Carmilla checked the clock on the wall and realized with a grimace they had run over by about ten minutes. “Yes, Mother, thank you.”

The boys helped her clean their mugs and followed her out of the main building and into the courtyard. They were met by a group of Sisters on their way to the evening meal including Sister Hollis and Sister Gertrude. The ladies cheerfully greeted them and were very welcoming to Will and JP. Sister Gertrude eyed them up and down before exclaiming that it was like looking at three greek sculptures. Her cackle was met with a hail of titters and off she toddled, leaving an amused Carmilla and Sister Hollis with two confused young men.

“ _ THAT _ was Sister Gertrude.” Carmilla explained.

“AH. I understand your descriptors now.” JP mused.

“May I walk with you to the gate?” Sister Hollis asked Carmilla quietly.

She nodded and they continued on, the three of them jabbering away while Sister Hollis followed at a sedate pace. When they reached the end of the drive they embraced and Carmilla said that they should write her so she would have their addresses. JP noticed that Sister Hollis had followed and swept her into a tight hug, careful not to catch her habit. He spoke with her quietly for a moment, neither showing any signs of discomfort so Will was content to hang all over his big sister for a moment longer. Finally it was time to leave, and Sister Hollis stood steadily by Carmilla’s side as they watched the boys cross the street, get into their rental, and drive away with some waves. They stood there until they lost sight of the car and then for just a few moments longer as Carmilla collected her thoughts.

“Are you okay?”

Carmilla sighed and bumped her shoulder into Sister Hollis’s with a watery smile.

“C’mon, Laura. I’ll tell you later tonight.”

Carmilla wrote every week to JP and William, and to home on Christmas that year.


	6. The Apple Tree: Part Six - Spring of 1993

As a biting winter rolled into spring Laura and Carmilla were able to find their way back to the comfort from the previous spring and then beyond that. They joked more often than not with each other now, teasing discussions on morals and academic topics. They broached the topic of politics and spent hours discussing the state of Austria and its relation to the rest of Europe-and while of course they didn’t agree on everything, they did get along well. Sister Hollis teasingly told Carmilla if they can discuss politics without getting into fistfights then there was hope for them yet. Carmilla just laughed and ignored the painful pluck in her chest.

Sister Hollis fell back into her habit of touching Carmilla on the shoulder and arm at random again, just like she did with the other Sisters she was close to. It was comforting and inclusive and Carmilla relished the contact. Sure she still found it weird and a bit foreign after experiences, but it was heartwarming that Sister Hollis thought that highly of her.

One morning in late May Sister Hollis roused her from her slumber with a “time to go wrangle some kids” and their summer schedule began. Carmilla was trusted to start sharing the burden of teaching the youngest kids with Sister Hollis, allowing the schoolteacher to step back for a breather and prepare future lessons. When Carmilla had confided in Laura about thinking she was taking work away from the teacher, she just smiled and told her to think of their situation as a student teaching position. The answer didn’t completely appease her until she confronted the teacher herself and got the same answer. Carmilla could tell the woman knew who she was and agonized over talking to Sister Hollis about it. She didn’t have to though when one Friday before they left the teacher pulled her aside and said that if she ever wanted to talk about teaching in the future to let her know. It was a comfort to have another contact that she could reach out to-and someone who genuinely wanted to help her. Carmilla saved her name and contact information on a page in the back of one of her notebooks.

While her future bothered her less and less, the continuing familiar contact from Sister Hollis ate away at her with a longing ache. Carmilla was frustrated with herself, unable to get away and unable to stay away. Every time her friend gave her a hug or squeezed her shoulder the bands around her heart constricted a fraction more. Yet she couldn’t bear to shy away from her anymore. She couldn’t stop herself from leaning into her side or hugging tighter. Carmilla caught herself studying her in quiet moments and trying to commit her to memory. If Carmilla knew any better, she would think that she was pining after her. She tried hard to bury the budding feelings during the day but they only showed up in her dreams.

The dreams started off simple. She would be sitting in the sanctuary with Laura and they would be smiling or laughing. They would be walking in a garden. Sometimes they would be driving through the countryside. Her favorite was the single dream she had of them laying in bed, her back pressed into Laura’s front and they were at peace.

Not all of the dreams were that simple and good though. Sometimes it would be the crush of the icy river and Laura reaching in for her and she wouldn’t make it every time. It would be her walking or running to her and the distance never shrinking. Sometimes it would be as if she were invisible to her and no matter how loud she screamed she wasn’t heard. Those were the worst.

She started sleeping harder, having trouble waking in the morning. She noticed after a while too that Sister Hollis had dark circles forming under her eyes as well. Finally one morning when Laura could barely stop yawning to drink her coffee Carmilla leaned in.

“Are you alright?”

Sister Hollis couldn’t stifle her yawn and nodded. “Just not sleeping well. You don’t seem to be either.”

Carmilla shrugged half-heartedly and scooped some of her porridge into her mouth and chewed quietly on the sweet gummy oats.

“Tell me, Carmilla. Did you ever sleep walk as a child?”

She nodded and spoke around her mouthful of breakfast. “When I was very little my parents would have to have a few maids wait up in shifts. One time I walked through my mother’s rose garden before the maid caught me. Woke up with scratches down my arms and a thorn in my foot.”

“Did you ever sleep walk later in life?”

Carmilla stared at her for a moment and then the other shoe dropped. She dropped her spoon and turned towards her, hesitating for a fraction of a second before resting her hand on Laura’s forearm.

“You’re chasing after me aren’t you? Sister Hollis, I am  _ so _ sorry-“

She was waved off and reluctantly went back to her porridge. Sister Hollis was a little more alert after a few sips of coffee and pointed a piece of toast at Carmilla.

“I don’t enjoy chasing after you every other night, but if it means keeping you from cracking your head open on the stairs I can deal.”

Carmilla slouched sheepishly and finished up her breakfast. “…where do I go?”

Sister Hollis studied her for a moment, mirth and a little apprehension dancing just behind her eyes.

“Sleep Walking Carmilla is particularly fond of the little apple tree in the middle of the courtyard.”

Carmilla stared at her blankly for a long moment and then figured out what well known religious story her friend was hinting at.

“Well… I think I need a little more coffee.” She muttered and clumsily rose from her seat, fighting down a blush that threatened to creep up her neck and wondered just who was the serpent tempting her to take the fruit.

She tried to ignore the way Laura’s lips curled into a smile around the lip of her mug but her stomach flopped anyways. She poured another helping and was contemplating sneaking out but wandered back over to their table and sank back into her chair. Carmilla tried to momentarily forget the incriminating garden parallels and the teasing look from Sister Hollis.

“I’ve been having dreams again. When… When I go through particularly stressful times or if I’m trying to solve something and can’t find the answer, I dream and sleepwalk.”

“Are you stressed?”

Carmilla paused and stared into her mug before shaking her head. “No, not really. Well yes but, just about the future. Where I’m going to go from here. What I’ll do… some things I’ve never really thought about.”

“Anything else?”

Carmilla opened and closed her mouth a few times before looking Sister Hollis in the eye. “We’re… friends. Right?”

Sister Hollis smiled serenely. “I hope so, Carmilla. You’re  _ my _ friend.”

Carmilla released a breath she didn’t know she was holding a huffed a laugh. “Yeah, yeah okay good.”

Sister Hollis waited a beat and asked softly, “Is our friendship bothering you?”

“ _ NO! _ NO, no not at all. Don’t you ever f-  _ don’t think that _ .” Carmilla sputtered, reaching out and grasping Laura’s shoulder briefly. They stared at each other for a long moment, golden brown locked with deep auburn.

“I’m just… I’m going to miss you.” She admitted hurriedly, and then rose, dropped her dishes off at the galley, and rushed out of the cafeteria.

* * *

The week went on and Carmilla knew she was sleep walking still after waking up sluggishly and having to actually pull Sister Hollis out of bed on Friday morning. She had to stop before she even crossed the tiny room, wincing at a small bandaged cut on the bottom of her foot. That afternoon she went to the Mother Superior and explained what was happening.

“So you think one of your brothers might know how to help?”

“Yes, Mother. I think they would.”

“And you’re coming to be about this because you’re endangering yourself?”

“I… I’m worried for Sister Hollis. She’s been looking after me and I know it’s taking a toll on her.”

Carmilla sat rigidly straight, perched on the very edge of the chair in front of the Mother Superior’s desk. The older woman studied her for a moment and then nodded to herself.

“I’ll see what I can do. For now, just try to sleep earlier and get as much as you can. You may return to your duties.”

“Yes, Mother. Thank you.”

They struggled on through the weekend, sneaking afternoon naps when they were able. Carmilla started going to bed with her slippers on and Sister Hollis started drinking an extra cup of coffee. She felt terrible and at one point she told her that she didn’t have to chase after her each time. Sister Hollis had only nudged her and answered  _ well if I didn’t keep an eye on you you’d be sick from sleeping out in the chill _ . Finally that following Wednesday Carmilla was called back to the Mother Superior’s office where she saw the phone lying on the desk off the hook.

“I have your brother William on the line, please be quick.”

Carmilla muttered a hurried  _ Yes, Mother-thank you Mother _ and carefully plucked the phone up and awkwardly perched on the edge of the chair while the older woman adjusted her spectacles and went back to chicken pecking on her clunky keyboard.

“Will?”

“ _ Hey Carm! Uh… your boss lady was telling me you’re sleep walking again _ .”

“I… yeah. And I can’t stop. I can’t remember what we used to do.”

“ _ Is someone watching you? _ ”

“Sister Hollis is-which is why I’m worried. I don’t know the last time she got a good night’s sleep.” She glanced up nervously at the Mother Superior and then away when she saw the older woman was thoroughly focused on her chicken pecking.

The line was silent for a moment and Carmilla listened to the soft static. Will sighed and she heard him take a sip of something.

“ _ Well, when we were really little I started crawling into the bed with you because I thought it would chase your nightmares away. It seemed to help. And… and I know Sister Hollis might not be comfortable doing that-and I know you might not be… but that’s the only thing I can remember. Besides that, I think you just eventually got over it. Sorry Carm. _ ”

Carmilla sighed and closed her eyes in a frown. “I was afraid you were going to say something like that.”

Will laughed and Carmilla could hear he felt bad for her. “ _ Yeah well, at least I’m not crushing on a nun _ .”

And now she wanted to slap him.

“Thank you,  _ William _ . I’ll write to you soon.”

“ _ No-no wait, I’m sorry! I was only kidding. I’ll talk to you soon sis _ .”

Carmilla rolled her eyes. “Bye Will.”

“ _ Bye _ .”

Carmilla gently replaced the receiver back onto the hook and rose with a groan. The Mother Superior looked up, blinking owlishly through her large lenses.

“No luck, my dear?”

“Maybe. But probably not. Thank you for helping me try, Mother.”

“Of course, Child. I hope you can get some rest tonight.”

Carmilla thanked her again and went on about her day, mulling over what Will had told her and eventually she just bit the bullet and told Sister Hollis outright over their evening meal. She stuttered and sputtered over her words and she could tell that her friend was curious of her behavior and was a little surprised when Carmilla finally spat the words out.

“I’m not… expecting you to do anything like that for me, it’s just… I know we’re both tired and Will said it helped me stop walking. We could either try wearing me out more with yoga, or we could try that-but only if you want to.”

Sister Hollis had thought for just a moment and then said “I’ll keep it in mind.”

It wasn’t outright rejection and Carmilla was grateful for that. She was  _ so _ tired.

The rest of the week drug on and Carmilla kept sleep-walking, always to the apple tree and they were both exhausted by Friday. Their tempers were on short fuses after nearly a month and a half of poor sleep and long days but they made it to their nightly yoga without another incident. As they were finishing up Sister Hollis stopped Carmilla from getting up with a hand on her knee.

“Carmilla.”

The countess stopped and sank back down onto the floor.

“If you walk again tonight, I’ll try what you told me.”

Guilt, gratitude, and something else bubbled in her belly and she nodded weakly, stifling a yawn. Carmilla barely remembered falling asleep but her dreams were weird scenes of her around the Abbey and in old haunts. She was looking for a pen and she couldn’t find one. Every person she came across was someone she thought she recognized but couldn’t place. Finally she wandered back to the Abbey and standing at the gate was Sister Hollis with a box full of pens. She didn’t remember much after that but soon enough the buzz of the alarm clock rattled on the bedside table.

But she was warm and wrapped up and felt intimately safe. It began to dawn on her that this wasn’t her bed. The pillow smelled of rosemary. It only took a moment for her to realize it was Laura who was firmly pressed into her back. She was so soft and so  _ warm _ Carmilla wanted to sink back into the edge of sleep for a few more hours. The weight across her side was a haphazardly flung arm and she could feel the tip of her nose pressing into the back of her neck. Laura sighed deeply and shifted into Carmilla further. The action made her heart flutter.

“Get that, would you?” She mumbled, her breath tickling the nape of her neck.

Carmilla blinked her eyes open blearily and swatted at the alarm clock until it stopped. She was surprised that she didn’t immediately shy away from the full-body contact. It was something she definitely wasn’t used to and something she had never truly been keen on… but it was really nice and she didn’t want it to end. However Laura untangled herself from Carmilla and slowly hauled herself up to a sitting position. Carmilla missed her right away and grumped as she too sat up and stiffly got to her feet. She still felt exhausted, but her mind was at ease now. Laura squinted up at her, her hair sticking out at odd angles. She poked her bottom lip out in a “not bad” attitude and nodded minutely.

“That worked.”


	7. The Apple Tree: Part Seven - Summer of 1993

Since that Friday night, Carmilla began waking up in some kind of tangled mess in one of their beds. There was no particular order but they could tell it was helping sooth whatever was bothering her. She relished the quiet moments before their alarm went off when she could hear Laura’s heartbeat under her ear or her breath on her neck. Carmilla knew that this wasn’t helping what she dared call a crush. Not in the  _ slightest _ … but they were both sleeping and getting the rest they had been missing out on. Carmilla’s stomach swooped and her heart skipped a beat with sleepy contented sighs or Laura’s sleep-roughened voice.

She had it  _ bad _ .

Much to her chagrin and frustration, it was exactly as her brothers had told her in their letters when she would get particularly long-winded about Sister Hollis. She tried not to think about it too much.

One slow Thursday they were assigned by the Mother Superior to clean and straighten up a barely-used room on the first floor of the Abbey. Its main purpose had been lost to them but it currently served as a storage room. The Mother Superior wanted to restore and revitalize the unused parts of the Abbey, if only for the building’s sake. After their morning prayers Carmilla and Sister Hollis visited the janitorial closet in the basement and picked up a bucket and some cleaning supplies to at least get them started. The room was on the back of the Abbey and the first thing they did was wrestle open the windows that overlooked the herb garden and countryside. Dust choked the air and the two women got to work.

Slowly but surely, Carmilla and Sister Hollis started dusting off and moving items around the room. They started by the door and cleaned off a table to stack dusted boxes on. Dusting off boxes and clearing the room of clutter and old furniture to one side took the entire morning. While they worked they amused each other with the ridiculousness of the rules in the book of Leviticus and how they would be nearly impossible to follow in the modern day. They ate ravenously at their midday meal and returned to the room in high spirits, which was now in much better condition even though it remained unorganized. They moved the furniture back into a semblance of where it had been, carefully removing anything that was damaged or that needed to be thrown away out into the hall.

It was hard and sluggish work once they started going through the contents of the boxes but they were in good company. Carmilla had twisted her veil up off the back of her neck and they were both sweating in the hot room. A breeze did blow in from the windows but it didn’t really help since it was even warmer outside.

“Do you think I’ll get put on permanent dish duty if I strip down to my underwear?” Carmilla griped before pausing to think and heaved a large box up onto the table next to the one Laura was finishing up. When she realized what she said she bit her lip and glanced at Laura.

“While you would be more comfortable I believe that’s not in your best interest.” She quipped, and Carmilla couldn’t tell if her cheeks were flushed from heat or her comment.

Carmilla heard her mutter something that sounded suspiciously like  _ but I wouldn’t mind _ and she nearly dropped the shoebox she had lifted out of the larger crate.

“S-sorry?”

Laura looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“I said I wouldn’t mind changing either. This habit is hot.” Her eyes narrowed. “What did you think I said?”

“Um… nothing.”

Carmilla returned to rummaging through the crate and fought down a blush and berated herself and her hearing. Of course Sister Hollis wouldn’t actually say that, she was a  _ religious _ sister. They worked silently for a moment and then Carmilla dug out an old yellow Walkman and a pair of headphones that had been snapped in half. There was a single cassette tape inside but no batteries. Carmilla frowned and set it aside for the time being. She finished digging out the rest of the contents that included some old piano lesson books and a Ziploc baggy of some double A batteries. A couple of them were leaking dried corrosion but there were three that seemed to be usable. Carmilla tried two and held up one of the foamy headphone pieces but nothing happened. She switched out one and then the other before faint music finally started to filter through.

“What do you have there?”

Carmilla jumped and dropped the headphone piece. She hadn’t heard Laura sneak up next to her and held up the old walkman. “I found someone’s music and I wanted to see if I could get it to work.”

She fumbled for a second and dangled the broken headphones in between them in an offering. Laura  _ hmmm’d _ and caught one of the pieces to bring it to her ear, tucking it inside her habit. Carmilla held the other half to her ear and had to shift closer because of the short wire connecting each half. She rewound the tape to the beginning and pressed the play button with some difficulty. It had seen better days and a few sticky drinks.

Static crackled for a moment before  _ BUST IT _ jumped the music to life and Carmilla nearly burst into laughter. She bobbed her head along to the opening upbeat guitar beat and drums and grinned at a confused Laura before launching into the first verse,

_ This here's a tale for all the fellas _

_ Tryin' to do what those ladies tell us _

_ Get shot down cause ya over-zealous _

_ Play hard to get females get jealous _

Carmilla followed along energetically while an increasingly amused Sister Hollis nodded along next to her. She caught herself starting to dance around to the popular American hip-hop song and found that for once she didn’t care. She was having  _ fun _ . It was like she was finally getting a connection back to the outside world.

_ Says she wants to dance cause she likes to groove _

_ So come on fatso and just bust a move! _

Carmilla grinned fiercely and held her hands out to Laura in an invitation to dance. She accepted it immediately and they barreled into the second verse, Carmilla jumping up to  _ You want it-You got it _ just as Sister Gertrude toddled past the open door. When she saw the commotion she shuffled into the room and waved off the embarrassed looks from the two young women.

“Those are my tunes! Turn it up! ‘ _ Cause baby you got it _ !”

Carmilla barked a laugh and took the headphone piece back from Laura and cranked the music as loud as it would go. The three of them enjoyed the short dance break until the song came to a close and left all of them huffing and puffing, with Sister Gerturde fairing the best of everyone. And with the headset returned to the ever-grooving ancient nun, Carmilla and Sister Hollis returned to their droll work.

* * *

The lights and sparse AC window units hummed with a short electrical surge and suddenly died, throwing the convent into either darkness or very dim light. Sister Hollis groaned in frustration as the lights in the cool kitchen cut out, leaving her blind and elbow deep in sudsy water. After a few stumbling moments later and a sore elbow from colliding with a cabinet handle, light popped into existence from a weak torch beam. She hastily dried her hands on a dishtowel and checked on a pair of older Sisters that had been conducting a morning Bible study for a group of local elderly women in the room across from the cafe.

After helping set them up with an old electric lamp and some low tea candles she was on her way up to the Mother Superior’s office. Since she was the youngest and one of the more spry, one of her many summer jobs was running to town for ice blocks in emergencies. Whenever a brownout occurred in the little town the Abbey was always one of the last on the grid to have power restored. The wait was never longer than five days and never shorter than one, but ice still needed to be placed in the modern refrigerators so the food wouldn’t spoil.

With the keys to the rickety old abbey pickup truck retrieved, Sister Hollis made a quick detour to one of the social rooms she knew Carmilla recently liked to read in. The reason for that was it was one of Sister Gertrude’s haunts and the young woman had taken a strong liking to her. She could hear the gravely voice of the eccentric Sister from down the hall and almost faltered in step when she overheard the conversation.

“…I understand there are few scholars now who classify the scripture as a reference to adultery and not homophobia. But you must also remember that while these books are from God and his disciples much has been lost in translation and to the ages.”

“-And to the prejudices of the writer and how they are enforced.”

There was a pregnant pause and Sister Hollis softened her steps.

“Yes, and to them. I know very well those prejudices. I say this to you-“ A chair creaked.

”Do not dwell so harshly on the Old Testament books. Look forward to the parables and teachings of our Savior. While it is important to understand our beginnings we must remember that the Lord sent us his Son to show us the way. And! If we take one particular story of Jesus Christ healing a man and his young partner, the root meaning of the Greek word used to describe this young man is  _ based _ in the meaning of a male lover. So tell them to put  _ that _ in their pipe and smoke it!”

Sister Gertrude looked up to Sister Hollis as she finished speaking with a dry cackle. “Been waiting long, my dear?”

“No Sister, not at all. I was hoping I could borrow Carmilla? An extra pair of hands at the supermarket would be helpful.”

“Right of course! The ice!” She looked back to the defensive woman seated across from her. “Well off you go then! Don’t distract her too much.”

The old Sister laughed again and heaved herself from the wooden chair and dug in her pocket. “Be a dear and buy me an ice cream? Chocolate would be wonderful.”

She pressed a warm coin with a Schilling 5 stamped on one side and a horse rider on the other into Sister Hollis’s hand on the way out of the room. The two young women listened to her leave, still very aware of the uncomfortable tension in the dim room. She waited patiently for Carmilla to reel herself out of her thoughts and straightened up from where she was leaning on the doorframe when she rose to her feet. Her eyes were dark in her clouded face and Sister Hollis could see the anger set in her jaw. She wanted to reach up and tuck the stray lock of dark hair behind her ear but felt in the current situation it might set off something she couldn’t take back… so she pinched the coin tightly in her fingertips.

“If you would rather stay and sit in the garden I won’t be upset.” She asked softly.

Carmilla shook her head jerkily and slipped past her into the hall. She was very obviously hurting and the topic of homosexuality in the church was always a powder keg. Sister Hollis tucked the coin into her pocket with the rest of the money for the ice and quickly followed after her friend. She decided that some fresh air away from the dusty abbey would probably be best for Carmilla right now.

* * *

The week after following the brownout-that had thankfully only lasted two days and a night-Sister Hollis found herself being coerced onto a skateboard by Carmilla and four of the boys from the summer school.

“Lord help me, I will fall and hurt my neck if I step on that thing.” She exclaimed, letting the smallest of the boys tug on her hand.

“But Miss Karnstein did!” another whined.

“Yes but I’m not Miss Karnstein. She’s a  _ pro _ .” Sister Hollis emphasized the word and widened her eyes, to which the youngest boy giggled.

“Oh come on,” Carmilla toed the board right in front of Sister Hollis’s feet. “-it’s really not that bad.”

Carmilla cracked a smile at a look that very blatantly said  _ you aren’t helping me here, cut it out _ . She let the boys hassle the poor Sister for just a moment longer before interjecting again with enthusiasm.

“WAIT. I have an idea…”

The boys quieted and Carmilla almost cracked her cool expression at the bewildered confusion plastered across Sister Hollis’s face. She stared her down for a moment, allowing the boys to get wound up for a moment, and then extended her hands palm up.

“Step onto the skateboard, Sister. Let me leadeth thee around the parking lot.”

Sister Hollis’s face dropped from confusion to  _ are you fucking kidding _ me in a split second heralded by the giggles of the boys. Carmilla wiggled her fingers and couldn’t hold back her smug grin when her friend huffed and stubbornly relented. She held her hands firmly as she gingerly stepped onto the skateboard. The rest of their visit consisted of Carmilla giving a nervous Sister Hollis a short pull around the parking lot and then the boys many times after.

* * *

The second anniversary of Carmilla’s arrival at the Abbey passed just like the year before-little celebration but with a woman much happier in both body and mind. It wasn’t the religion, but the peace away from the stress of her life. She did miss the music and the luxuries and would on the hardest days complain to her friend that she wanted a cigarette and a drink and to pluck a crunchy riff on her bass. But the shallow people and the out of control wild party scenes were something she didn’t mind missing.

It was evening quiet time and she and Sister Hollis were cooling down in their meditation after a gentle yoga session. Carmilla had a hard time focusing on keeping her mind calm. It kept wandering to the little spot of warmth where her and Laura’s knees were touching. She had thought about moving away but kept remembering the hurt on the other woman’s face when she had shrunk away from her before. She didn’t think she’d be able to bear seeing that look again. She kept her eyes closed.

Carmilla nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt Laura’s fingers crawl onto her knee.

“ _ I’m going to miss you, you know _ .”

Carmilla exhaled shakily and tentatively rested her hand on Laura’s.

“ _ Who knows, maybe I’ll find a job teaching here in Styria _ .”

Their grip tightened for a brief moment.

“ _ Don’t tease me like that _ .”

And then Laura rose from the floor, kissed Carmilla on top of her head, and left their room.

* * *

December blew open into a joyful month, just as it had a year prior. Once again most of Carmilla’s chore work was to help clear the walks of snow and ice. She spent time feeding the winter birds in the early morning with Sister Gertrude, and then eventually helped decorate different parts of the Abbey for the approaching holiday.

The Sister’s floor was minimally decorated with wreaths and a few baubles. The common sitting room however had a little “Charlie Brown” tree and some candles. Much to Carmilla’s amusement (who had been wrangled into the process) Sister Gertrude had found a generous bunch of mistletoe and had it hung from the immobile ceiling fan nearest to the tree. From time to time she would trundle to whoever was closest to it and give that Sister a wet kiss on the cheek with a blessing. So far Carmilla had received three.

She began helping bake special Christmas treats for the Abbey store. Ginger snaps and sweet buttery spritz cookies. Mixes for spiced wines and ciders. The delicious doughy  _ bauernkrampfen _ with powdered sugar and jam stuffing. Miniature plum cakes wrapped in foil. Apricot dumplings rolled generously in brown sugar. And of course trays full of swirled cinnamon buns and yeast rolls. Carmilla and the Sisters helping were allowed to take some of the reject treats to the café where the rest were given to any children that came in with their parents. Carmilla made sure to sneak a few of the tooth-achingly sweet treats to Sister Hollis.

Carmilla was more mindful of her friend this year, and took extra time to make sure she was distracted and unable to fall too deeply into her yearly slump. Sister Hollis still had her down days, but Carmilla could tell she was glad for the company. The middle of the month was punctuated by the blue-haired Lucas galloping into the Abbey store one day and swinging her about in a bear hug with a university acceptance letter clutched in his fist. He jabbered excitedly for exactly two minutes before galloping away with a special order for his grandmother leaving a group of townsfolk gaping in his wake.

JP and Will even surprised her a week before Christmas with a new pair of gloves and a scarf. It was good to see the boys and they expressed their excitement for the last of Carmilla’s probation to be ending. That particular comment threw her for a loop but she agreed and was ready to actually try to live her life.

Even if it meant she was leaving Laura behind.


	8. The Apple Tree: Part Eight - Fall of 1993 Through the Winter

September crept into October, and October crawled into November. Carmilla and Sister Hollis continued to enjoy their friendship, learning more about the other every day. Sister Gertrude had begun affectionately calling them the Scooby Gang when the Mother Superior wasn’t around. She always teased them for being thick as thieves and in return Carmilla-much to Sister Hollis’s exasperation-compared her to the last Templar Knight guarding the grail. That of course got her a fair few swats with a newspaper and a cackle.

Over the two years Carmilla had come to know more of the townsfolk and had even kept up with the group of punk kids in particular. In a sense she had taken them under her wing ever since that one weird meeting. They would stop by the abby shop when she was working, or would take a tour with her on the weekend to discreetly ask her questions. She told them to have fun but also to be aware of the dangers that they could expose themselves to. She educated them, made sure they knew how to take care of each other and shared personal stories from time to time. She helped them figure out what they wanted to do when they got old enough to attend a local University and would spend an hour or so on the weekends picking around on guitars if she was able. Re-forming the calluses on her fingertips was an annoyingly painful affair and brought on a never-ending slew of Sound of Music jokes.

Carmilla had also kept in touch with the young teacher from the local school and had been allowed a few hours a week to go learn from her. If felt awkward being back in the student’s chair, but had come to enjoy what she was learning. Beginning reading was surprisingly one of the subjects she had enjoyed most in learning how to teach. It was far more rewarding than debating the finer points of Aristotle with some snot-nosed book worm-though she wasn’t adverse to bringing those finer points to young minds in bite-sized arguments. Her time was split accordingly between reading and fledgling philosophy to the confusion of the young teacher, but allowed none-the-less. The added educational work took some priority over her Theology readings and both helped keep her mind from wandering to darker thoughts.

One chilly Sunday afternoon Carmilla was in a local tea shop helping Lucas, the punk boy with blue hair from one of her first outings. He had been starting his application to the Music program for the University he had been accepted into, and had come to her asking for help with his essays. It was that day he had mentioned going to Oktoberfest with his Aunt later that week and was curious to see if the Sisters at the Abbey got to go. Carmilla had told him that she didn’t think so-not remembering any of the sisters leaving to go the previous year.

“Have you ever been?” He asked, frowning at a sentence and erasing vigorously.

“When I was young my father would take me and my brothers. I haven’t gone since then.”

This of course launched him into a full rant of how great the Berthodlstein fest was. He went into great detail over the different foods and games and crafts, particularly the grilled sausages you could get skewered with onions.

“I mean I could bring you something if you want? I cant really pay you for helping me with this application stuff.”

“Thank you, Lucas. You don’t need to worry about that.”

He muttered an  _ if you say so _ and continued working on his application. Carmilla watched him for a minute, then took a sip of her tea.

“…you mentioned crafts?”

* * *

The fifth and final Christmas Eve service went off without a hitch and the bells in the steeple rang merrily across the snow-covered town. Some of Sisters were visiting with the late-service regulars and Sister Hollis and Carmilla were sweeping the pews for left-behind bulletins and beeswax candles. The Sanctuary was cast in a warm golden glow from the candles on the ends of the pews and on the windowsills, the dark wood and red carpet giving it a cozy feeling despite the high arching ceilings. Pine garland and wreaths held in place with red ribbon bookended the seating and reminded Carmilla of lavish Christmases as a child. She lingered in the Narthex with handfuls of paper and candles, watching Sister Hollis wish a few townsfolk a Merry Christmas. She truly was a stunning woman with warmth and kindness radiating from her every action, even the bossy know-it-all moments she still had from time to time.

In that moment she could hear here brothers laughing at her in the back of her mind, teasing her for her sappy feelings and ever growing affection. She shook her head and deposited her collected items in a basket while firmly reminding herself that Sister Hollis was dedicated to the Church. It stung, a little harsher than before but she could still swallow it. For now. Carmilla reached in her pocket and touched the small wrapped parcel and decided she could give it to her friend tomorrow.

“Come along,  _ kätzchen _ , it is time for bed or we won’t be able to rise for our Savior!”

Carmilla nearly hopped out of her skin when Sister Gertrude came up from behind and prodded her in her side, cane askew like always. She exhaled a shaky breath and forced a small smile. Sister Gertrude trundled ahead with a few other Sisters and Carmilla followed-nearly having a second heart attack when Sister Hollis slipped into step beside her.

“ _ GOD- _ “ She bit her lip to keep from finishing her swear and couldn’t hide a real smile. “-bless you and keep you.”

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you. Nice recovery.” She laughed and linked her arm in Carmilla’s.

“It’s like you’re part ninja now with your new shoes. A  _ nunja _ , if you will.”

“That was a terrible joke.”

“Yeah, I know. Not sorry.”

They chatted amicably and followed the older sisters back to their wing in the Abbey, voices tired from hours of singing. They were just about to walk past the dim common area when Sister Hollis halted abruptly and took her arm out of Carmilla’s.

“Oh! Come in here for a moment, I have something for you.”

Carmilla’s heart jumped a little in her chest and she swallowed nervously, feeling the small parcel burn a hole in her pocket. She followed Sister Hollis over to the tree and twisted her fingers nervously.

“You’ve been a wonderful friend to me, Carmilla. I wanted to make sure you had something to remember our friendship after you leave.”

The Sister turned back and held out a small item wrapped in brown paper. Carmilla could see the slightest tremble in her fingers and took it carefully. She glanced up with a  _ May I _ ? and tugged at the simple twine when she received a nod. The paper crackled loudly in the quiet room and Carmilla pulled a long thin rectangle of lightweight cloth. It was embroidered in floral patterns of blues and greens and golds with the tiniest neatest stitches. Her mouth fell open at the level of care and her brow furrowed when she picked out words… in latin?

“They’re scriptures and prayers of protection… you use it to um… keep your hair back.”

Carmilla pulled the nervous Sister into her arms and held her tightly for a moment until she felt her hands crawl around her shoulders and her posture relax into relief.

“I love it. Thank you so much.” She whispered, pulling back to look at it again. “It’s  _ beautiful _ .”

“I’m glad to hear it. Just don’t dye your hair too many crazy colors. It might clash.”

Carmilla smiled. “I promise. OH-“

She hastily pulled the tiny parcel from your pocket, heart in her throat. “I made this for you too. I couldn’t decide when to give it to you but I figured since you went first…”

Sister Hollis gave her a funny look at took the gift, unwrapping it with calmer hands. A small seven-strand brown leather bracelet woven into a flat half-inch band fell into her palm. The pattern of the weave was stained on one side with black ink in a grid-like pattern to mimic one of the stained glass doves in one of the Sanctuary windows. One the inside was an even smaller shape of a hand throwing up the rock’n’roll horns.

“Hopefully Mother Superior won’t think I’m telling you to turn to the devil, it was just easier to do that than try to write something-“

Sister Hollis cut off her quick ramble with a hand on her shoulder.

“I love it.”

She leaned in and Carmilla swore she could feel her heart stop-and then start again when warm lips pressed a little too close to the left corner of her mouth. A voice inside screamed at her to  _ just turn your head she’s right there _ and was going to-but she pulled back and left a vacuum in her wake. Carmilla sucked in a breath and stammered out something that sounded like a “ _ no problem sure _ ” to her ears but was probably more on the side of babbling. They stood in the dim room for just a beat longer, Carmilla swallowing thickly and trying and failing to keep her eyes from falling to Laura’s lips. She was about to work up the nerve to give her a proper kiss when the shuffling gate of Sister Gertrude rounded the corner not far from the room.

Sister Hollis sucked in a deep bracing breath and patted Carmilla on the shoulder. “We should probably get some sleep.”

And like that she swept from the room, leaving Carmilla standing disappointed with her mouth slightly ajar. That odd charged moment left as swiftly as it had come and she was already mourning its loss. What a fool she was, falling for someone she couldn’t give herself to. Her thoughts were just beginning to spiral into self-pity when a very loud and very wet kiss was planted on her opposite cheek.

“That’s  _ four _ ! Happy Christmas, dear!” Sister Gertrude cackled and trundled away.

Carmilla sighed shakily and sat in front of the Charlie Brown Christmas tree for half an hour before turning in. She had been right when she said she was fucked the first time her brother visited. She just hadn’t realized how empty it would make her feel.

* * *

Ever since Christmas eve Carmilla couldn’t help the affection that seeped into her actions. She had done well the past few months to hide them but her touches lingered, her voice was softer, and she could care less what people thought… but she was still vigilant to make sure she didn’t overstep or put their places at risk. She knew that this stint here was her best bet to starting a somewhat rehabilitated life and she didn’t want to endanger Sister Hollis’s position either. The only reason she hadn’t stopped was that her softness was being returned. She was too afraid to put a name on it but it felt an awful lot like a heavy crush.

It was New Year’s Eve and Carmilla lay wide-awake trying not to toss and turn too much in her bed. The clock was creeping towards midnight with four minutes to spare. She knew Laura was awake as well and they both knew that rising the following morning was going to be tough. They listened quietly to each other breathe from across the room, the inexplicable feeling weighing heavily upon them. Carmilla shut her eyes right as the bells tolled midnight in the town below, distant and dreamlike. The pop of fireworks began and they could hear a few other sisters call out across the rooms a happy new year. Still Carmilla stayed in her bed, warm in her heavy nightgown and leggings under a couple blankets. Her nose was cold to the air in the room and she listened to the bells finish their tolling. Then in a tiny whisper from across the room,

“ _ Happy New Year, Carm. _ ”

Her eyes snapped open and as quietly as she could Carmilla peeled back her covers and tiptoed across the chilly floor, settling on the edge of Laura’s bed next to her hip. She propped one arm across the slight bundled body under her and carefully reached out, squinting in the dark to brush hair off of her forehead. Carmilla hesitated, her brain finally catching up with her body and was going to apologize when a hand poked out from under the heavy blanket and tugged the neck of her nightgown down.

Her mind went blank again and she leaned forward, now with permission and gently kissed Laura, noses bumping and shaky breaths mingling. She was soft and smelled of lavender and mint toothpaste. Carmilla was very aware of how hard the hand was tugging on her nightgown still and pressed closer, angling her mouth and kissing her again with a bit more force.

Laura’s other hand wriggled up out of her blankets and tangled in the thick hair at the base of Carmilla’s skull, the one pulling on her nightgown leaving and sliding up her neck. Carmilla inhaled deeply through her nose and let herself get lost for just a moment, enjoying the physical comfort she hadn’t had in a very long time. When it started to get a little heavy Laura pulled back and tugged Carmilla into a tight embrace, burying her burning face in her neck. Carmilla tried her best to quietly control her breathing. She hadn’t realized that she had become slightly out of breath and her heady adrenaline turned into a spike of fear. Had they been loud? Had the Sisters next to them heard? She froze and listened, the only sounds for the longest minute were the fireworks from the town and a few quiet chortles from a ways away. They seemed to have gone unheard after all.

“ _ I’m sorry _ -“ She began, but Laura turned her head and pressed another kiss to her lips.

“ _ Thank you _ .”

Carmilla bumped her nose with her own and sighed softly, wishing she could stay there with her the rest of the night. But she knew that wouldn’t be wise-and so did Laura, who relinquished her tight hold. The feel of her hands sliding down her arms as she sat back up left goosebumps in their wake.

“ _ Happy New Year, Laura _ .”

And with a final squeeze of her hands, Carmilla rose and tiptoed back into her own bed with her heart still hammering in her chest with a new warmth. If she had been in any other situation she would have leapt from the rooftops. Instead she let herself fall asleep grinning madly into her pillow.

* * *

The following weeks were dotted with lingering touches, careful policing of where their eyes wandered, stolen kisses in dark hallways, and hushed conversations tucked into one of their beds at night. They knew they had to be careful and spent the effort to hide their rapidly growing affections around the other Sisters. The main topic of their midnight conversations were if they were even in the right in exploring each other.

Carmilla would be leaving later that year and Laura’s place was at the Abbey. Carmilla explained that she still had a lot to do to improve herself, and always made sure she told Laura that a lot of her current improvement was because of her help. Maybe it was best that she continued away from the Abbey? Laura always would grow quiet at that point in the discussion and one night in early February Carmilla pressed her forehead into hers.

“ _ Hey, it was better to have had this short time with you than not at all… and if it gets to be too much, I’ll understand _ .”

Laura propped herself up on her elbow and kissed Carmilla slowly, quietly, achingly sweet.

“ _ You can be too much sometimes, but only when you get in one of your ranting moods. But this _ ?” She traced the bridge of Carmilla’s nose with a fingertip.

“ _ You are never too much like this _ .”

Laura caught the flash of teeth in the dark before Carmilla was pushing up into her and pulling her back down to the pillow, nibbling on her lip. She kissed her for a moment longer before pushing back up with a huff.

“ _ You aren’t going to ask me to leave. Are you _ ?”

It was definitely more of a statement awaiting confirmation than a request. Carmilla sighed and carefully shook her head.

“ _ I want to-I do… but this is your home. I don’t think I could forgive myself if I asked you to leave when you weren’t ready _ .”

Laura relaxed into the woman underneath her again, listening to the snores from next door and continued tracing the contours of her face. Carmilla watched her the best she could against the moonless dark. She may not have been able to see it, but she knew that familiar crinkled brow was there.

“ _ That’s actually quite selfless of you _ .”

Carmilla smiled softly. “ _ You pick up a few things in an Abbey _ .”

Laura stifled a huff of a laugh, her stomach flexing briefly against Carmilla’s side. She studied the woman underneath her for a moment longer and then laid down, resting her ear on Carmilla’s chest. She listened to the thrum of her steady heartbeat and wished for an easy answer.

“ _ You sure do, don’t you _ .”


	9. The Apple Tree: Part Nine - Spring to Summer of 1993

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the weird POV jumps...

Sister Hollis tried her best to ignore the bead of sweat tracking down her spine and dug harder in the dark earth with her trowel. She grumbled at a particularly annoying clump of weeds and hacked a little harder than necessary when they refused to come free. Singing birds and the babbling voices of the giggly school children visiting the Abbey on a field trip bounced off of the old weathered abbey walls. There were larger tour groups that afternoon but none of them paid her any mind, intent on following their guides so they could get to the gift shop. She was well enough off that way too and it made it easier for her to stick to her task. It was almost three o’clock in the warm April afternoon and Sister Hollis had worked through almost the entire small garden in the center of the courtyard. The young apple tree was vibrantly green with new leaves and rustled softly in the breeze.

The tedious work was an easy time to let her mind wander, and sometimes into more illicit waters-that she would immediately wrench herself out of. Most of the time she dutifully recounted her lessons for the day and mulled them over to find the best ways to incorporate them into teaching or self-practice. But more recently her mind would wander to her dark eyed, deeply moody, and achingly sweet-if rough around the edges-roommate. Roommate may not be the appropriate term any longer and frankly she didn’t know what to call their predicament. The growing affection and care she had for the other woman had unfairly circumvented her mental compartmentalizing and had only grown over the past two and a half years. Sure, they had their differences and most definitely some disagreements, but they had both matured and learned how the other’s mind worked. Looking back on many of their early fights was quite embarrassing since they could have so easily been avoided. The past realizations made her face color in shame and her stomach sink just like any long-past embarrassment will do.

Today was one of those days when Sister Hollis couldn’t focus on her day’s devotional, no matter how hard she tried. And oh how she  _ wished _ her brain would just stop about how she dreaded Miss Karnstein’s coming release from the abbey. It filled her chest with stones and pulled the ache of hot impending tears into the back of her throat. If only her brain would let her be led down more illicit paths. Enacting punishment from those was so much easier than talking one’s self down from a pitying self-absorbed woe-is-me cry. Her mind and heart were both torn in two and sometimes at night when it stormed she wished lightening would strike and make the decision for her.

She was startled out of her self-wallowing gardening when the familiar shuffle of Sister Gertrude tumbled out into the courtyard, the echoing chatter of the school children coming to an eerie abrupt halt when the wooden door to the first floor of the Abbey closed behind the elderly Sister. Sister Hollis glanced up and watched in mild worry as the old woman shuffled her way over, cane still held aloft in a scary balancing act on ancient legs.

“Oh don’t stop on my account.” She quipped with a cackle.

Sister Hollis was able to force down most of a grimace and continued stabbing at the offending chunk of weeds with her trowel. “Are you here to help me?” She asked dryly.

“I hope so, though you may see it as something else.” Sister Gertrude huffed and puffed her way over the shallow paving stone divider between the walkway and garden.

Sister Hollis sat up on her knees and tugged off her simple gardening gloves, suspicion worming its way into the back of her head. The old woman shuffled over like a decrepit tightrope acrobat and found a flat spot to stand on near the young apple tree.

“If you’re going to press your prune juice and honey concoction on me I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline. Again.”

“Oh heavens no, Child. You’re young, you don’t need that yet.” She cackled again. “But I think you could spare me a few moments. Have I told you how I came to this Abbey?”

Sister Hollis peered up curiously and ventured tentatively, sensing a “ _ yes but _ ” coming along. “Just that your husband had died in the war and you wanted to serve?”

Sister Gertrude nodded and for a brief moment Sister Hollis could truly see how old she was.

“My husband, a loving man. I have never loved someone as fiercely and as deeply as him save for our Lord and Savior.” She crossed herself, so did Sister Hollis. “We got along well but bless him we had some terrible morality differences. When Hitler rose to power? Well let’s just say we slept in different rooms until he took it upon himself to go serve in that awful regime.”

Sister Hollis open and shut her mouth like a trout on a line at a loss of how to respond. It wasn’t uncommon for many of the older generations to have served. However it made it a bit hairier to react when context was revealed. Sister Gertrude saved her the effort,

“He was a nazi dear, plain and simple. It was maybe for the better that he didn’t come back to me after the war!” She cackled again but there was no mirth.

“Anyways. This is my very round-about way of telling you that love does not come often to the degree that my husband and I had. It comes in all forms and shapes and sizes, but very rarely in such intimate  _ intensity _ .”

She finally stamped her cane down and rested her gnarled hands on the handle, continuing softly with a knowing look. “I do expect a letter every once in a while, and a visit before I hopefully go to meet our Lord above.”

Cold ice washed over Laura when she realized what had just happened.

“S-sister Gertrude-“

“No! I don’t want to hear it!” She shambled forward to rest a blue-veined hand on Sister Hollis’s tense shoulder.

“All I want is for you to be  _ happy _ , child. And whenever I see you look at Miss Karnstein in those rare seconds, I see you  _ so _ happy.”

Hot tears finally welled up in her eyes.

“ _ I don’t know if I can _ .” She whispered in a strangled voice.

“Of  _ course _ you can child. If it is as the Lord wills, then it will be so.”

Sister Hollis nodded and returned to her work, her veil hiding her tears.

* * *

Carmilla noticed later that night when Laura jumped away from her, startled out of focusing on an attempt to meditate. Apparently the panic wasn’t masked well enough and she found a worried Carmilla sinking down into a cross-legged sit right in front of her. Laura had shut her eyes again and her brow was furrowed but she could feel the eyes on her face.

“ _ If this is too much, we can stop _ .”

The whisper was so soft she almost didn’t hear it. Carmilla had told her this many times since the New Year, but never in such a small voice. She blinked her eyes open and was startled again by the depth of her sad eyes. It was an aged look and one that spoke of giving up so much. Losing Laura would be a painful notch on her belt-and one she didn’t want to cause. It seemed hopeless some nights. Her hands shot out and wormed their way in between the slender fingers knotted in a death grip.

“ _ Don’t say that. Not tonight _ .”

“ _ But I can see it. I can see this hurting you and I can’t-I- _ “ Her words caught in her throat.

Laura leaned forward so their knees were touching and felt her heart drop when Carmilla couldn’t look her in the eye. It was the Lady’s tell-tell sign for tears. She leaned further and gently rested her forehead to Carmilla’s and released a shaky sigh. A hot tear landed on their hands, then another, and then another. She didn’t know whose tears belonged to whom.

Laura released her grip and unfolded her legs, then pulled the other woman to her and lay down on the wooden floor. Arms wrapped tightly around backs and legs tangled so closely they were like the sturdy roots of the young apple tree in the courtyard below.

“ _ I can’t stop _ .”

They lay there for a long time.

* * *

April ended tensely on pins and needles and many of the Sisters attribute it to Carmilla being nervous about her upcoming release back into society. She grabbed at the excuse and wore it like battered armor, playing up the woes of taxes and public transportation again. Carmilla found any excuse to stay near Laura, even horning in on helping with cleaning their communal baths. Another excuse of wanting to learn how to do it all before she left-intent on living out from under her family’s thumb even if that meant getting cut off. She ignored the growing knowing looks between a few of the more astute Sisters, who of course already knew that Carmilla was well versed in scrubbing the mold out of the grout in between the tiles. She had even been asked if she thought to stay, but Carmilla said she missed her leather jackets and a cold beer. So they let her do as she pleased-within reason-after being advised by the Mother Superior. They weren’t complaints per se, just some odd comments here and there. Her behavior was clingy but wasn’t disrupting.

The middle of May brought Sister Hollis and Miss Karnstein back to the summer school, where they decided to go ahead and tell the children that it would be Carmilla’s last summer with them. There were varying degrees of disappointed utterances and the lesson continued on, but not without three of the youngest cramming onto Carmilla’s lap during playtime. May tripped lazily into June and the children finally settled into their routine. Not a day went by when Carmilla didn’t have at least one in her lap at playtime so naturally she started teaching them all the little fun tricks she knew.

A few days later many of the children were running around with clover chain crowns and honking on wide blades of grass between their thumbs. The girls and some of the boys were decked out with necklaces and bracelets to boot, all made carefully with Carmilla’s guidance. She taught them how to balance on one foot while patting their heads and rubbing their bellies. She showed the younger ones how to tie their shoes and the older ones how to skip rocks on their trips to the river. A river she could only associate with healing and peace now. She continued to sing Disney songs with the demanding girl from last summer and in turn taught her some of the easiest latin aria she could think of. And when the head teacher and Sister Hollis’s backs were turned she taught them the correct way to punch-wrist straight, don’t tuck the thumb, only use it when you are in trouble. When the demanding Disney girl had asked about kicking, Carmilla laughed and said to get a good pair of boots-when you’re old enough.

* * *

Sister Hollis knocked softly on the Mother Superior’s office door in late June. She had been able to get twenty-ish minutes free just before the afternoon vespers and had left Carmilla in Sister Gertrude’s capable hands sighting an upset stomach. It was an unpleasant excuse but it worked. She didn’t have to rap her knuckles a second time and the soft command,  _ enter _ , filtered through the door. The Mother Superior looks up from her chicken pecking and over her reading glasses, the light from the computer screen reflecting in them.

“Sister Hollis, how may I help you, my child?”

Sister Hollis swallowed thickly, her mouth suddenly cotton and cleared her throat nervously. “I have something to ask of you, Mother.”

Brief concern flickered over the stern face and she gestured to the chairs before her desk. The rectangular reading glasses were discarded and the monitor screen was jabbed off for the time being. Sister Hollis quickly took a seat on the edge of the chair on the left, her back ramrod straight and her shaking hands hidden inside her pockets.

“What’s on you mind, Sister Hollis?”

She paused, then began slowly.

“When I came here, I didn’t think that there was an easier way through life.” She paused and gauged the Mother Superior’s initial reaction and she was met with blank patience. “I didn’t think I would be able to do much good as I was and now I see how naïve I was.”

“You were a child, Sister. Don’t drag yourself over the coals for something you weren’t able to control.”

“Yes, I know, but now I am not… and…”

“Now you can see yourself doing something more?”

Sister Hollis nodded meekly. She wasn’t just agreeing though.

“Ever since I was a little girl I wanted to be a journalist. I still want to be one, but what I have learned here, the people I have met, I… I want to teach. Teach and write for small papers or magazines. I know there are religious publications out there and I could lend my gifts that way.” She rushed on. “I know I would have to go to school to get a teaching degree but I can work and manage my time and within a few years I could be teaching children at a small Catholic school. Or if I am needed, I can teach lower levels in public schools. I don’t know where I would go but I do know I can be beneficial somewhere.”

The silence stretched on for what seemed like forever when it was probably a scant ten seconds.

“How long have you been thinking of this, Sister Hollis?”

There was no point in lying or exaggerating, so she answered truthfully.

“Two years.”

A severe eyebrow rose. “Two years? Or just under?”

Sister Hollis flushed and resolutely repeated, “Two years, Mother Superior.”

The Mother Superior studied her for a moment longer. “Was Miss Karnstein the other shoe dropping to give you the courage to move on?”

Sister Hollis must have taken too long to answer because the Head Nun rose from her desk and circled to take the seat next to her.

“You see a future outside of the Abbey with Miss Karnstein.” It was a statement, not a fact.

“Yes, Mother.” She answered meekly. “We’ve become close friends.”

“I’m happy to hear that, Sister Hollis. I had hoped you two would help each other.”

Sister Hollis couldn’t help but turn in confusion at the tone in her voice. It wasn’t triumphant or proud, almost as if finally something had resolved and she no longer had to worry. It made her question Miss Karnstein’s previous life and attitude deeper since the woman had just given her brief insights. She knew the woman had been deeply troubled-and probably still is… but she was healthier in body and mind now and she could see significant improvements with temper and patience.

“Sometimes all one needs is a peer of their own age to help them stay balanced. And a quiet place away from the hubbub for a while.” She gave an understanding look. “But tell me more. About when did you start wanting to leave the Abbey?”

Grabbing at the small reprieve, Sister Hollis launched into the details she had left out. About how she had wanted to work for newspapers as a child and would write mock articles for her parents about what she would see at school or reviews for their yoga classes filled with interviews generously given by their patrons. She talked about missing newspapers and knowing what was going on in the world once she came to the Abbey. She clarified that she would eventually find out, but was so curious about the near-immediate  _ who what when where why _ that had never been satisfied. Sister Hollis admitted that she was too inquisitive for her own good and could control that by channeling it into teaching. She explained the joy she would get when a child understood something and described the sympathy when a child would have a hard time grasping a lesson.

“I know, I’m a bleeding heart, I can’t help it. And I love the children here but I know there are so many out there that still need help.”

The Mother Superior had settled into the chair next to her, vaguely amused with how energetic and enthusiastic the younger woman had become in her rambling speech. “You truly would like to leave the Abbey?”

Sister Hollis reeled herself back in and awkwardly folded her hands on her lap. “Yes Mother, but with you and the Church’s permission of course.”

“And you have talked to Miss Karnstein about this? Has she asked you to leave with her?”

She had been waiting for that question and picked her words wisely. “We have talked about the possibility many times, but she has never directly asked. Miss Karnstein has repeatedly told me that,” She paused. “-that this is my decision. And that she will support the decision I ultimately make whether I leave… or stay. She’s always so gruff about it too.”

“Is she?”

Sister Hollis suppressed a grin and jokingly intimidated her…  _ friend _ . “ _ I may be my Sister’s keeper but I’m not going to hold you on a leash _ .”

The Mother Superior showed a rare soft smile and looked almost pleased. She sat up again and rounded her desk back to her formal seat of superiority.

“Shall I take this meeting as an official request to part from the Abbey?”

Relief flooded Laura’s body for the first time in weeks.

“Yes, Mother, please.”

“Very well.” She nods. “You have taken your final vows?”

“Not yet, I had been hoping to very soon.”

The Mother Superior frowned slightly and formed her hands into a steeple under her chin and thought for a moment. She tapped a few keys on her keyboard and pulled something up. There was more chicken pecking and the unmistakable electronic noise of an email being sent.

“Alright. Here’s what I’m going to do. I have sent a request to my contact at the regional Bishop’s office. I’ll have a conference with him as well as the highest Sisters here. With your  _ mostly _ spotless and good record you will at the very least be granted an interview. But until that time this brief meeting is the best I can do for you.”

The steeple bell tolled.

“And now it is almost time for our afternoon worship. Do you have any other questions, Sister Hollis?”

Sister Hollis knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but she had hope now since the Mother Superior seemed interested in helping her. She rose with stiff legs and shaky knees.

“No, Mother Superior. Thank you for your time, I am deeply grateful for your guidance.” She bowed slightly and began to make her way to the door.

Her fingers had just touched the handle when she was called out to.

“Does Miss Karnstein know of your visit?”

Sister Hollis and shook her head, a small almost sad smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“No Mother, only us.”

* * *

July grew a little draggy as Carmilla began sleep walking again, even when sharing the bed with Laura. They survived this time by sneaking naps, recalling how brutal the disruptive sleep pattern had been on them recently. Some nights Carmilla would slip from the bed without Laura noticing right away and that had led to some heart stopping panicked moments when she would barely catch her at the stairs. Luckily most nights Laura would catch her right before she even left their room and could easily coax her back into bed. She still lost sleep, but at least she didn’t have to hike all over the Abbey this time.

Even though Carmilla didn’t admit it right away, Laura knew that she was upset about the coming change. There was still stress in her home, the evidence in another recent letter from one of her brothers detailing their mother’s continuing alcoholism and their father’s questionable nightlife made even Laura’s anxiety kick in.

“ _ I can’t go back to them after this. After being clean for so long. I don’t know what would happen _ .” She whispered fearfully one night in late June.

It wasn’t often that Carmilla showed fear and Laura tried to soothe her by saying she could call and speak to her family lawyer soon. That he would know what to do, and maybe even have some options. The stressed woman had even let her rub circles on her back the way her long-passed mother had done to chase away the nightmares. She fell asleep hoping that she could have that interview soon.

* * *

The temperature in July was a little warmer than expected and late one night found both Laura and Carmilla lying on the cool wooden floor with their bed clothes hiked up their legs to try to stay cool. The window was thrown wide over their heads and they had been dozing for an hour or so. They were nearly too hot to sleep and it was a bit frustrating. Every once in a while they would hear one of the younger Sisters get out of bed and try to cool off for a minute before trying to go back to sleep. Sister Gertrude was surprisingly up and about at one point, shuffling down the hallway to fetch a cool damp washcloth for her forehead.

About 2am when the other Sisters had settled down for the night Carmilla woke herself back up and unstuck her back from the floor. She smiled sleepily when a clumsy hand slid over her abdomen and back. The touch left her skin tingling and that tiny jolt of adrenaline woke her up a little further. She rolled onto her side and carefully kept rolling, pushing her nose into the hot skin of Laura’s neck and bracing her left hand on the other side of her. As quietly as she could she left fluttering kisses all over the column of her neck, feeling her sigh deeply. Hands curled up around her sides and put pressure, pulling her down into her and Carmilla obliged-quietly. Legs shifted and to her surprise, Laura pulled her down into the cradle of her hips. It was closer and more intimate than they had ever been and Carmilla could feel a different kind of heat. As much as she didn’t want to, she behaved and didn’t go any lower than the sloping planes of Laura’s chest just under her clavicles.

Laura gently scratched Carmilla’s back through her wrinkled damp shirt and enjoyed her comforting weight on her. It had been a gamble, but a good one. She felt good and it felt good to have Carmilla resting on her the way she was. It wasn’t enough but it was helping, as was the attention to her neck and shoulders. It was pushing another line, but Laura knew that they wouldn’t cross that one. A few moments later, Carmilla slid her forearms under Laura’s head to act as a pillow. She kissed all the way across her jaw line and came back for a kiss on the tip of her nose. It was probably the cutest thing she had ever done and Laura could feel the heat of her blush creeping up her face.

“ _ What would you do right now _ ?” She paused and brushed dark hair out of Carmilla’s eyes, gathering her courage.

“ _ What would you do if we had our own little place and it was just us? How would you love me _ ?”

The question caught Carmilla by surprise, but then she grinned wickedly, happily.

“ _ I would worship you the way God intended _ .”

If the light had been on Laura knew her face would have been tomato red. It was so clichéd but so blasphemous she couldn’t help but be pleased and the tiniest bit mortified at the same time. She could feel Carmilla’s silent laughter in her torso and she pulled her close and whispered boldly in her ear.

“ _ Tell me _ .”


	10. The Apple Tree: Part 10 - Late Summer of 1993, to August 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I'm sorry it isn't up to my usual standards but I hope you liked it. <3

July had progressed quicker than Carmilla had expected it to and before long she was saying teary goodbyes to the summer school children. She tried to be tough for them but when her Disney-Aria-obsessed little girl started bawling and didn’t want to let go it set off an entire chain reaction. She was swarmed by little arms wrapping around her wherever they could reach and Carmilla let her tears fall too. It was an experience she would never forget and pinky promised more times than she could count that she would visit if the teacher let her. Before she left, she found clover chains and a little pink bow tucked into her pockets. She knew whom the little pink bow was from and made a mental promise to learn any new Disney songs that came out before she hopefully returned for a visit.

* * *

August rolled around and Carmilla felt like she was on the march to the gallows. Two years ago she would have been ecstatic to leave, possibly even jumping for joy. But now she had friends. Now she had people who genuinely cared about her wellbeing. Now she had older women she could actually look up to as a role model.

Now she had Laura.

Now she knew what it was like to be held as she fell asleep. Now she knew what it meant to say through thick and thin. Now she new what it was like to be so trusting of someone you could share your thoughts and go to them when she felt low. Now she knew what  _ love _ felt like.

And now she was about to leave it all behind.

She had thought about staying, even though she still didn’t quite get the whole Jesus Thing and the Eternal Life thing. It was a quiet life and one she had never had but always longed for. If she did stay she would more than likely be removed anyways to go through the proper process and then she probably wouldn’t be able to come back here for a long time. This way, leaving offered her the opportunity to visit and still wear fancy leather jackets.

And to see Laura, of course.

* * *

Once the first of August rolled around Carmilla had spent as much time as she could with Sister Hollis. Lending help, leading Sunday school, and singing with her in the choir. Doing yoga with her just before they climbed into bed and cuddled in a tight knot of limbs. They took turns listening to each other’s hearts and more than once they had to stop themselves from trying to commit the other’s entire body to memory. Carmilla still wouldn’t let them go over that last line; she respected Laura too much even if the Sister was beyond caring and even asked a few times. But they always stopped, cooled down, and apologized to the other because it was out of their hands. Much to Carmilla’s poorly hidden dismay Laura had started calling herself Carmilla’s very own  _ Mary Magdalene _ . The self-depreciating biblical dark humor didn’t do much to help lighten the mood.

Around the second week of August Sister Gertrude demanded an Abbey portrait be taken since  _ who knows how long I’ll be here-I want to be grinning down on you all as you eat your pickles and drink your tea _ . The old woman was humored and the man who took family portraits down in the town graciously came up and took a large picture of all the Sisters and Mother Superior on the steps in front of the Cathedral. At the last moment he had ushered Miss Karnstein into the photo too, oblivious of who she was and the Sisters welcomed her in warmly. Tears pricked her eyes as she forced a tight smile for the camera. Before he left she caught his elbow and slipped a piece of paper into his hand with the number for Friedrich’s office number.

“I can’t pay you right now, but I would love to have a print of that please. Tell this man Carmilla asked nicely. He should be able to send you payment.”

The photographer was a little bewildered but agreed, and Carmilla was happy that she could at least have this one immortalized moment in time to take with her. After that had been done, Sister Gertrude shuffled off cackling and calling to the Mother Superior to rename the cafeteria after her when she died. Some of the Sisters chuckled and others tittered as they returned to their tasks or studies.

The week leading up to Carmilla’s departure was full of the Sisters visiting and wishing her well as she went on in life. Sister Gertrude hogged her the third day, and her last two days it was mostly drop-ins and Laura. Carmilla had noticed she had grown quieter and quieter and felt guilty for marking another low point in the woman’s year.

In a small swing of good news, she was allowed a phone call to Fredrich, and the suddenness of the call alarmed him.

“ _ What’s going on Carmilla? Is everything alright _ ?”

She wanted to say no, but glanced nervously to the Mother Superior chicken pecking away on her keyboard. “Yes, I’m okay. I did have a request…” she trailed off.

“ _ Carmilla Karnstein asking me politely for something! I never thought I would see this day _ .” He teased, then cleared his throat and settled down. “ _ What’s your request _ ?”

She paused, swallowed, cleared her own throat.

“ _ Please don’t make me go back there _ .”

The words were out in a rush. “Talk to Will or Jean Paul and see if they know of any little rentals. I  _ can’t _ go back to that house. I’m finally getting  _ better _ , Fredrich. I know it’s always going to be hard but if I can get away, somewhere quiet… I stopped smoking, Fredrich. It was Abbey rules, but I can taste foods again. I’ve been doing yoga and I’m stronger  _ and _ healthier. I’m not afraid of the river now… I can  _ sleep _ .”

Carmilla heard the brief pause in the clacking typing at her last admission and she realized that this was the first time she had admitted that out loud to anyone other than Sister Hollis. The line crackled uncomfortably and the Mother Superior doggedly typed on, trying to give the illusion that she couldn’t hear what was being said.

“ _ I’ll see what I can do, Carmilla. There may be stipulations but if I can appeal to the court that this would be better for you, then I’ll get in touch with your brothers. _ ”

It wasn’t the answer she was hoping for but it was better than she was expecting. She thanked him and hung up, returning the receiver to the chunky plastic body.

“Thank you, Mother.” She gave the customary curt bow and retreated from the office before any more could be said.

* * *

On her last night she was called down to the Cafeteria right after evening vespers, Sister Hollis gently tugging her along with their elbows linked. She knew what was about to happen right when they rounded the corner and she saw Sister Gertrude shuffle comically back into the room in an excited whisper-shout  _ Here they come! Get ready _ !

Her jump was more of a result of the wall of sound that met her and less of the actual surprise, but she didn’t let them know that. The Sisters and even Mother Superior had all gathered to say a final farewell, even including an Abbey-baked cake to go with their evening teas. It was a yellow sheet cake with chocolate icing, and the words  _ Go with Peace Sister Karnstein _ were piped in blue cursive and surrounded by little blue flowers and crosses. Carmilla laughed and cried more than she ever had that night and accepted a piece of cake with “ _ Go _ ” on it. When the Sister who had handed it to her realized what had happened they all burst into laughter again and Carmilla refused to trade for another slice.

Before she left to retire, the Mother Superior pointed to a small cardboard box in the corner. “I’ve brought you your belongings tonight to make your transition easier. Your clothes have been laundered and nothing was damaged from storage. You may wear them tomorrow, just place what you have received from the Abbey into it and leave it on your bed. Your lawyer should arrive around midday… You may still attend the morning vespers if you wish, we would love to have you.”

Carmilla didn’t pull her into a hug, but she did press her hands to hers and thank her for putting up with her-and  _ yes _ , she would be at the vespers. The Mother Superior laughed.

“You’re a kind woman, Miss Karnstein, no matter a hard shell you put up. Remember to let that down once in a while. Stop and take in the Lord’s work around you.”

The little party lasted no more than an hour and soon enough the plates and mugs were being cleaned up. Carmilla awkwardly accepted a few more hugs and let Sister Gertrude hug her for as long as she wanted. Finally, she and Sister Hollis were making their way back up to their little tiny room. Carmilla easily held the cardboard box on her hip and discretely tangled the fingers of her free hand with Laura’s. She had been worried through most of the get-together with how the Sister had refused to hide the shining affection on her face. But it wasn’t questioned and she didn’t understand until she saw similar looks on other faces that she understood how she wasn’t just a drop-in-delinquent to them anymore. It made her heart rise and fall all at once.

The reached their shared room and stared around at the small space they had inhabited for the last two years. The gray wool blankets and off white pillows were the same. The wardrobe to the right was now full of their clothes issued by the Abbey and the little bedside table in between the beds under the open window still held the little vase of flowers and fresh rosemary. But now Carmilla had her own children’s drawings stuck up on the wardrobe front. Her new favorite was the fire-breathing giant princess that was rivaling Laura’s Godzilla in a sea of stick-figure Jesus drawings. The desk was now a mess with their shared notes and there were a few library books on the bedside table. It looked thoroughly lived-in now compared to when she had first arrived.

Laura turned to her and swung their hands a bit. “Yoga or skip?”

Carmilla looked around the room a little longer before finally meeting the honey eyes she had come to associate with joy.

“Let’s just have a regular old night.”

Laura smiled softly and nodded, releasing Carmilla’s hand.

“Yoga it is.”

Carmilla was very much in the mood to do nothing and to just lie in bed and kiss her, but if she were to make it to the morning without incident she needed routine. So they went about their business, leaving the small cardboard box under the desk and out of sight. They changed and began stretching and twisting and breathing to let the stress of the day out of their bodies. They both found their ending meditation impossible and decided to run and shower instead. Carmilla turned hers cold and kept it there as her mind flashed back to the incident all those months ago. If she would have been bolder, more of her old reckless self she would have slipped into the stall next to her where Laura was. She had to pause. It wasn’t that she had gotten rid of her reckless behavior, but maybe more along the lines of Laura and the Abbey had taught her how to channel it into something better. Carmilla rolled her eyes and shook her head jokingly calling herself bland in her head.

Once they were clean they retreated back to their room, just as the nuns on the second floor began to settle down for the night. As feisty as ever, they had to tell Sister Gertrude (who insisted on being on the second floor) to pipe down and let them sleep. Carmilla reluctantly pulled the box out from under the desk and set it on her bed, knowing it would be easier to lay them out now than to scramble in the morning. She opened it, Laura slipping up beside her elbow and felt a little better when a warm hand rested on the small of her back. She pulled out the loose black top that had been gently folded and laid it flat on the bed. Next were the black leather pants that had also surprisingly been cleaned-she could tell. Carmilla unfolded them and then frowned.

“ _ Do you think I can still fit into these _ ?” She mused.

Laura rested her chin on her shoulder. “ _ Shall we find out _ ?”

Carmilla cut her eyes over and her eyebrows jumped up. “ _ Really _ ?”

She was met with a shrug and a mischievous smile and relented, pulling the pants on underneath her nightgown. They clung tightly to her thighs and she almost had to suck her stomach in to button the high waist. They were almost obscenely tight and Carmilla gathered up her gown to show Laura.

“ _ I guess that yoga gave me a little muscle. _ ” She mumbled, twisting and turning to look at her legs in different angles. Carmilla stifled a snort of laughter when she noticed her granny panties bubbling over the top of the waistband and glanced up to Laura. Her smile nearly slid from her face at the other woman’s expression and she felt the heat rise up.

“ _ Well _ .” Laura breathed and raised her dark eyes to Carmilla’s face, cheeks flushed. “ _ I think you can still wear those. _ ”

Carmilla couldn’t help the grin and wiggled her hips just to tease before stripping out of them again. She could feel Laura’s eyes on her as she did so and turned to face her, readjusting her underwear with an unattractive face to cut the mood. It worked and it was Laura’s turn to stifle her laugh. Carmilla pulled out her underwear from the box and wondered what it would feel like to put it on again, but she refrained from putting on another show-much to Laura’s disappointment. Last were her socks, a worn purple-grey bandana she hadn’t realized she had probably kept in her pocket, boots, and a sandwich sized plastic bag with her jewelry. She reached in and pulled out the more discreet of her leather cuffs and rolled it over in her hands a few times. It was black, supple and soft, no more than three centimeters in width with tarnished brass snaps.

“ _ I want you to have this. _ ” She turned and held it out to Laura.

She reached out and carefully took it, turning it over and over in her hands with her head lowered. “ _ What wrist did you wear it on _ ?”

Carmilla studied what she could see of her face behind her hair. “ _ My right _ .”

She nodded and after a brief hesitation, snapped it around her wrist with little difficulty. They both studied the black stripe of leather and something deeper passed between them. Laura looked up with watery eyes and kissed Carmilla.

“ _ Time for bed, Love _ .”

The familiar knot of tears at the base of Carmilla’s throat formed again and choked the words she wanted to say, so she just nodded and let Laura pull her into bed. They found a comfortable position, turned out the light, and tried to sleep.

* * *

They rose at five-thirty on the dot with the alarm clock and groggily thought about climbing out of the tiny twin bed. The twilight sky was clear and birds were beginning to chirp obnoxiously and it seemed like it was going to be a beautiful day. Carmilla finally wrestled herself into a seated position and looked back when a hand rubbed at her back. Laura was looking up at her with eyes full of sleep and sadness.

“I wish we had more time.” Carmilla murmured.

Laura answered with a nod and sat up behind her, shifting around to rest into Carmilla’s back. They stayed there for a long moment and only broke apart when they began to hear the Sisters moving around in the room next to them. While Laura was dressing in her habit, Carmilla slipped into her old underwear and felt odd with how low the waistline was and how small the bra felt. Next were the pants and she was glad the loose top was a little long to hang down around her hips. She spent a minute trying to remember which ring went on which finger, gave up on the earrings, welcomed the weight of the necklaces, and snapped her remaining wrist cuff onto her left wrist. The only think that felt right were the boots.

“Let me do your hair?”

The request was soft and Carmilla looked up to see Laura standing in front of her with the colorful scarf from Christmas in her hands. She could see the wrist cuff peeking out from under the sleeve of her blouse. Carmilla relocated to the desk chair and let Laura-Sister Hollis-pull her hair back and into the low bun she had gotten very proficient in doings. Her shaggy bangs had grown out and all of her hair easily stayed up now. Next she folded the bandana into a band and carefully laid it over the top of her head and tied it at the base of her skull to keep the whisps out of her face. Now Carmilla felt better with her gift snug around her. Sister Hollis rested her hands on Carmilla’s shoulders and she enjoyed the warmth and missed it immediately when she pulled away.

Carmilla attended the early morning vespers and ate breakfast in the Cafeteria with the rest of the Sisters as if it were any other day. She struggled to get through her muffin but only until Sister Gertrude hobbled over and fussed at her to eat it before she keeled over. Once breakfast was cleaned up, they attended the morning service before setting out about their day. Carmilla returned to the dormitories and helped strip the beds for laundry, making sure to pack up and take her now heaping box of Abbey-issued clothing as well. She also took the time to pocket her children’s drawings, and scrawled on the back of the note she had found in her bag of jewelry. It was the very first note she had received from Laura, but it was her turn to write something.

_ Dear Sister Hollis, _

__

_ Thank you for everything that you have done for me. I’ll carry you always in my heart. _

__

_ Love, _

_ Carmilla _

She had almost written Laura. Almost.

She left the note on the now-empty bedside table.

* * *

At about ten in the morning she was helping Sister Hollis in the Library when Sister Gertrude wandered in on her shambling tightrope. They watched her bumble about to a few different places before finally making their way over to them.

“Ah! There you are. Sister Hollis, Mother Lilith would like to speak to you. And I’m afraid it’s going to take a while. It might be wise to say your goodbyes now.”

Carmilla’s heart sank as she turned towards Sister Hollis. She thought she had more time, at least another hour or so. Carmilla set down the books in her hands and pulled the other woman into her arms and held her fiercely. The arms around her were so tight in return she thought her ribs were creaking from the force.

“I’ll try to see you off if I can. Don’t worry. There’s nothing to fear, Carm.”

She kissed her on the corner of her mouth and withdrew, bustling away after the already retreating Sister Gertrude.

The Sister paused in the doorway, waved, and was gone.

* * *

Carmilla kept watch on the doorway for a good ten minutes, but with every minute passed her heart broke a little more. It had happened so quickly and so abruptly. She rubbed at her naked right wrist and sucked in as much air as she could to try to chase away the tears that threatened in the corners of her eyes. The best thing she could do until it was her time to go was to continue working so she forced her hands to pick up the books she had set down and continued to numbly catalogue what was in front of her. She could only hope for one last glimpse before she left.

It was about eleven-thirty when Fredrich finally arrived and she was called back to Mother Superior Lilith’s office. She went along obediently even though she knew the trek by memory now. The entire way she glanced all around, hoping to catch Sister Hollis one more time, but she only saw a few of the other Sisters. She entered into the small office and immediately was met by Fredrich who first gave her a hug and then ushered her to one of the chairs.

“I see you are doing well, Carmilla. The Mother here has told me that you have been doing  _ wonderfully _ well.”

Carmilla jolted herself out of her stupor and answered woodenly. “Yes, thank you.”

Fredrich gave her an odd look and they launched into the formal closing review, which had apparently already been started but they hadn’t needed her yet. Mother Lilith described Carmilla’s rough start, a slip here and there, but overall she had found what she hoped to be solace and a place to work things out. She continued about how Carmilla was well-loved by the Sisters and the children’s summer school-to which Carmilla perked up and showed them the folded crayon drawings that had been tucked in her back pocket. She went on to say how Carmilla had especially improved her anger and was, and how kind to the older Sisters in the Abbey she had become, and had even taken a few of the town teenagers under her wing. Carmilla was a little startled that the Mother Superior had known that but she hadn’t been discreet either.

All in all Friedrich was very impressed and led the Mother Superior through what he called a “character bingo checklist”, something that made Carmilla almost feel like she was being studied as a specimen. When they got to one of the last questions, “Does the Party feel that the Charge has been improved as to lead a healthier and full life both to their self but also the community they choose to live in?”; the Mother Superior looked right at the Countess and answered with a clear and ringing  _ yes _ . Carmilla could only nod in thanks, not trusting her voice.

With the interview wrapped up, Fredrich collected their signatures one last time and shuffled the papers into his very important looking briefcase after letting the Mother Superior retain her own copies.

“I believe that wraps things up. Thank you, Mother Lilith. I and my client and her family deeply appreciate the effort you and your Abbey have put forth in this trying time.” He stood and shook her hand across her desk.

Carmilla also rose to her feet on wobbly knees and shook the Head Nun’s hand. “Thank you again, Mother.”

“Please don’t be a stranger, Miss Karnstein. We would love to see you again if you’re in the area.”

Carmilla nodded and eked out a weak smile. She jumped a little when Fredrich clapped her on the shoulder and she took that as her cue to leave. When she reached the door, she turned and let Fredrich go through before calling back.

“Mother? Do you know where Sister Hollis is?”

Mother Lilith stood at her desk and shook her head. “No, child. I’m sorry.”

Carmilla nodded resolutely and bowed before closing the door behind her with a final respectful bow.

She followed a few steps behind Fredrich, taking in the sights and sounds and smells one last time before she left the grounds. She looked down the hall before they entered the creaking wooden stairwell, and thought the beams of sun and dust motes on the red carpet and warm dark wood hung suspended, almost as if time were standing still. The stairs echoed with their footsteps and Fredrich was explaining that with her brother William’s help he was able to find her a little one-bedroom apartment over a small book and coffee shop in a borough of Vienna. It wasn’t perfect, but the older couple that owned the shop were community based and didn’t particularly follow the rules of the high life. Carmilla told him it sounded wonderful and asked if he knew if the little shop was looking for an employee.

They passed out of the Abbey proper and into the courtyard. There was a tour group of older children filing out of the far entryway and the single figure of Sister Gertrude was standing in the middle garden next to the small Apple tree. As they approached Carmilla could hear her singing,

“ _ Ave Maria! Undefiled! The flinty couch we now must share shall seem this down of eider piled- Though I will say with your good soil and my comfy bed it’s not too flinty. Hmm hmm hmm hmmm murky cavern’s heavy air _ …”

Carmilla paused to talk but Sister Gertrude didn’t turn to her, but only continued to serenade the little tree that was now able to shade her with its slender boughs.

“… _ breathe of balm if thou hast smiled _ …”

Her singing grew softer and more distant as Carmilla walked further away.

“- _ Maiden! Hear a maiden’s prayer, Mother… Suppliant child _ …”

Carmilla turned under the arch that led out of the Abbey and onto the grounds and looked back at the elderly Sister, who now raised a hand in farewell.

“ _ Ave Maria _ !”

Carmilla waved one last time and turned on her heel to follow Fredrich, but her heart leapt into her throat when she saw two figures standing at the gate. One she could easily tell was her brother William, tall and broad shouldered. But there was a small and slender woman next to him, dressed in almost drab clothing of cream colored slacks and a light blue button up with a small bag at her feet. It didn’t click until the woman turned and smiled, hair still tightly pulled back in the morning’s careful bun and eyes crinkling. The black leather cuff was still around her wrist.

It was Laura.

The ocean roared in Carmilla’s ears and Fredrich had to help her move forward again with a gentle prod between the shoulder blades. She knew her mouth was hanging open and her feet were sort of doing what they were supposed to, but she must’ve looked like a fool because Laura met her the last couple steps and gathered her into a tight hug. When she pulled back, the only thing she could muster to say was,

“Sister Hollis…”

She laughed and the sound was music to her ears. Their joined hands were anchoring her to the ground and Carmilla felt she would float away if she let go.

“Call me Laura.”

Carmilla’s face nearly split from the force of her smile and she repeated the name, now no longer hushed.

“ _ Laura _ .”

Together, hand in hand they walked out of the grounds, through the gate, and toward the town car ready to take them forward into the world.

Carmilla was finally looking forward to her future.


End file.
